Blue to White
by Firefox
Summary: Starts off with a Blue who has a Gift beyond measure, and ends with the Gift either being the savior, or the destructor of Valdemar. To save their country the Heralds must delve into worlds untraveled... the world of the Companions.
1. Bad Beginning

Authors note: This is the longest chapter I have ever written.  Ten pages, and I'm still not sure if I like it or not (problem described at bottom A.N.).  Don't own Valdemar, that immense pleasure goes to Mercedes Lackey.  But I do own this story, AND EVERY OTHER STORY I WRITE!!! (sorry . . . just found someone copying my stuff on this damn site . . . still bitter about it . . .) (that's not to say he just borrowed some of my characters . . . I'm fine with that . . . she copied stories I have up, word for word, _and took credit for them.  One of __her reviewers e-mailed me, saying that __I was the one coping __her, even though all of her stories are dated months ahead of mine . . . as I said, still bitter about it, and when I'm bitter I am Ramble Goddess . . .)    _

Blood and dirt blended into the blue tunic until it was just one unrecognizable shade.  Neoka Marron, the boy unlucky enough to be in the tunic at the time, gritted his teeth and glared daggers at the boy on the other side of the puddle.

"For the last time," he bit out angrily, "I did not even _touch your sister!  She was the one hanging all over __me!  For a future Herald you sure are dense!" and he knew he was loosing it, because as a Nobles first-born son he had been brought up with impeccable manners, and that last little insult had been a slip of the tongue._

The Trainee across from him narrowed his eyes, and Neo knew that insults weren't the way to settle the fight, at least to both boys' satisfaction.

"Don't lie!  She told me the whole story, coward." Even the boy's voice sounded caked in mud.  His gray tunic was even worse off then Neo's.

"_What story?!  When I came into me room she was already there!  I was trying to persuade her to leave, when you showed up!" his sharp dark eyes flicked to a corner of the 'battlefield', where a white Companion was dancing worriedly in place, reaching her neck out towards her fool Chosen as if trying to call to him._

If anyone could talk some sense into the prideful Trainee, it was her.  Well, he finally had a way to end this fight without hurting himself or the boy . . . _too bad, anyway._

He stumped right up to the boy and grabbed him by the elbows before he could try anything, staring into his eyes until he was sure the boy was listening.

"Look at that gods-damned horse of yours, man!  Look, and tell me what she is trying so damned hard to tell you!" the boy's face grew indignant, but he fixed his gaze on the Companion anyway.  The instant he did Neo didn't have to hold his elbows.  His whole body froze and his breath creaked out loudly.

Neo shook his head and took a step back, immediately replaced by the Companion.

Free at last from the prideful rage of an older brother he looked at the people who had gathered to watch the fight.

No blue tunics among any of them.  He snorted at himself and returned to examining the mess he was.

The fight had been long; lasting all afternoon, of course none of the Nobles would spend the day watching a brawl, even if it was with one of their "friends" and a Gray (their favorite).  He stole another peak at the crowd, disturbed by the flash of gray and shimmering white.

Had every single Trainee and Companion come out to watch?  Well, another reason why no Blues came . . . there wasn't any room, and the crowd wasn't one to be caught in.

But why had all of _them come?  It was only a fight between students and the Collegium, nothing out of the ordinary.  What did they want?_

He diverted his attention back to himself and began to run fingers through his black hair, praying that it wasn't in as much a mess as his clothes.  It would take all night to wash then!

A mud covered boot stepped into his range of vision, and he recognized it as the boot he had previously been dodging. 

"I'm . . . I'm sorry about . . . jumping to conclusions." He said, seemingly through clenched teeth.  Neo raised his gaze.

"Don't say things you don't mean." He said tonelessly, and continued before the boy could try to deny it, "And I told you to tell me what your horse said." 

He ignored a derogatory snort from the boy's left, where his Companion stood watching, and crossed his arms.  The boy lowered his gaze.

"She said you were right about my sister . . . and to thank you for opening me up to her again." Once again, it sounded forced.  The boy obviously didn't like apologizing.

"It was more to save my hide then to for her gratitude." Neo said, relaxing into a laid back posed.  The boy's lips twitched.

"Yeah . . . yeah, she knows that." Neo smothered a smile.

"Neo!  Well?  Did you beat him?" Neo's back straightened almost painfully and he sent a quick glance at the approaching group of Blues.

The Grays and Companions had yet to disperse.

"We want all the details!" chimed one of the girls.  Neo felt like his back would shatter if it got any stiffer.  He took a couple of steps before the Blues could reach the little Gray.

Gods only know what would happen to him then, even with a crowd watching.

"And you'll get them, though all inside by a warm fire.  I'd ask for my cloak, but I don't think it would go with my uniform." The group seemed disappointed at not being able to jeer at the Trainee, but followed him back to the Collegium with no more then narrowed glances and muffled curses.

Trainee and Companion watched them go with confused gazes, each thinking the same thing.

_Did that Blue actually draw the others away, before they could do harm?  How un-Blue-like . . ._

***

Neo collapsed on his bed and closed his eyes, weary from the battle almost as much as he was from the Blues that had followed it.

He entertained the idea of taking on a few of the Blues that had promised to help him next time (because he knew they wouldn't, even if there was a next time), before glancing at the mirror.

A solemn face stared back at him, all sharp angles and Aristo blood.  His dark ebony hair, which usually shot out in every direction, seemed as tired as the rest of him.

Only his eyes stayed sharp, as they always did, even when he was dead tired.

All of it put together usually made him look imposing and dangerous . . . but with that ridiculous dirt smudge on his nose he looked like a stubborn little, who had spent the day playing in the mud.

With a snort and a groan he rubbed the spot away with his fist and got up from his bed.  Cautiously, so as not to pull anymore muscles then necessary, he peeled his ruined uniform off and grabbed a random robe from his chest of clothes, pulling it on with equal care.

His thoughts wandered back to how he had acted during the fight, as he settled down for a long awaited sleep.

His tongue didn't usually run away like that, he usually left blatant insults to the other party.  But things had been getting a little weird lately.

Looking back, even before the boy's sister had come into his room, he noticed that things had definitely been out of sort.

A week before the fight, for example, he had been trying to go to sleep in his room.  Completely relaxed and drifting off, he felt his thoughts drift . . . and then . . .

And then, in the blackness of his mind, there were suddenly _presences.  Other things that could not be mistaken for anything but another __human mind._

They had different qualities, sounds that he could not hear, and colors that he could not see, but knew were there none-the-less.

It had surprised and scared him so much that he had snapped violently away from it, back into his room and bed.

He had to have dreamed those _things . . . those other minds . . ._

No one could _hear another's thoughts._

It hadn't occurred to him that that was exactly what Heralds say their Companions could do.  He hadn't thought about the Heralds who claimed to have such ability.

He had only known that he had seen other people's thoughts, feelings . . . their entire mentality . . . and he didn't know _how he had done so._

So instead of trying to explain it to himself, he claimed it a dream and attempted to forget about it.

But he couldn't disregard the taste of each mind, each thought.  They had been so real.

_Too real._

He only prayed that it wouldn't occur a second time, and sought to exhaust himself utterly before going to sleep, hoping that he would not dream something like it ever again.

And so far it was working like a charm.  He just never relaxed, and it never bothered him again.  

So far, anyway.

And with that last thought firmly planted into his mind, he glided into slumber too deep for dreams.  Real of otherwise.

***

Amaro leaned against the fence that lined Companions Field, large white body reflecting the sun set, and turning into a rosy orange.

Personally he felt he looked better just white, but his mind was elsewhere.

There was a soft noise in the back of his thoughts, almost like another heartbeat.  Instead of shaking his mane and snorting at it, he listened.

Yes, it did sound like a heartbeat, a beautiful instinctive music that echoed his own.

He knew it for what it was, a beginning Call.  It had started no more then a week ago, and was steadily increasing.

But it wasn't time.  His mother had said that when he Chose, it would not require anything from him except his hooves.  That it would tell him, clearly and loudly, when it was time, and not a moment before. 

With a soft sigh he lowered his head and scratched his neck on one of the posts.  He didn't _want to wait.  He had turned ten a couple of months ago, the age when almost all Companion's Chose their Heralds, and when he finally heard the Call it was too weak and not ready._

Another sigh escaped him.  Once the Call decided it should put him out of his misery, he would take it out on his Herald.

And with that happy notion stuck firmly in his mind, he left the fence and trotted over to a nice looking tuft of grass.

***

The group of students in gray uniforms huddled closely together, their whispers rising and falling gradually.

"Greg won't tell anyone what the Blue said to him after the fight, he has too much pride for his own good." Said a male voice.  Murmurs of agreement before a female voice spoke up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he threatened him.  Just like a Blue to do something like that.  We had better watch this one." More agreement.

"Yeah, before he gets it into his aristo head that he can go pushing us Trainees around like that all the time." And the unofficial meeting dispersed, all with their hearts set on protecting their own kind.

***

Neo tossed under his sheets, eyes clenched and teeth gritted shut.  Sweat formed on his head.  He was dreaming again . . . only this time it was much, much worse.

They were all around him, and it was so noisy he couldn't even tell which "voice" was his.  He tried to fight them back, tried to do anything to get them to just shut up so he could hear himself think, but nothing he did worked.

They screeched at him, and from the jumble he could pick out some of the louder thoughts.

_I wonder if she likes me . . . I hope she does . . ._

_He is such a jerk!  Next time he comes near me I'll step on his foot . . ._

_Oh . . . I am so__ hungry . . ._

And they were all like that . . . all so trivial that Neo felt like being sick.

Why would they waste his time with such stuff?!  What did they want him to do about it?!

In a desperate attempt for some silence he sought out the quietest of them all, the ones near the back, with some sort of shield around them.

Thoughts still leaked through, but at least they weren't screaming, at least he could sort out which voice was his own.

For a while he just waited and drifted amongst those minds, picking up random bits of thoughts.

_If I don't see a Healer about this damn leg soon I'm going to cut it off myself._

_Not another month until we're back on the Section riding . . . I think I'll just sleep till then . . ._

These thoughts were not so trivial, actually more interesting than anything else, and they didn't come so quickly or deafeningly.  He could stand this, until he woke up.

He stopped beside a particular presence that had thoughts so slow a quiet that it must have been a sleeping mind.  Neo listened, and one thing he heard made him jump in shock.

_Who's there?_

He floated a little ways away, and then returned.  He studied the presence until it was vividly imprinted in his memory, and then waited for it to talk again.

_I know you're there . . . what do you want?  How did you get past my Shields? _

Neo didn't know if he could communicate with this presence, but he tried anyway.

_Can you hear me? He asked after a moment of concentration.  The male presence (it felt more male then female, and older then most of the others) drew back as he had, but returned quicker._

_You're nothing but a child! He accused.  Neo ignored the insult in favor of his discovery._

_You can__ hear me!  Do you . . . do you know how to make the voices stop?  Can you tell me, so I can go to sleep again? It seemed like a well phrased question considering his anticipation, but the man seemed more shaken then anything else._

_You . . . you're doing this in your sleep__?!  Are you a Trainee?  No, no of course not, you'd have been taught how to Shield yourself, if you were._

Neo's own thoughts were whirling away inside his head.

_What if he can't help me?  What if this thing I can do is something that no one else can?_

Instead of a pride that would usually surround originality, only fear came to him.

_Will I have to live with it forever?  _

And then, before he could stop it:

_Not if I get rid of it . . ._

He blinked mentally at the firm, unbidden, thought.  He knew that he had no control over the power, so the only way to "get rid of it" would be to get rid of himself . . .

_I've never really thought of suicide before . . ._

That sounded so offhand and observation-like that Neo almost laughed at himself.

The male presence stopped him from doing any such thing.

_As well you shouldn't have!  This is not something to kill yourself over!  It's a Gift!  An extremely powerful Mind-Gift._

Neo jumped from the reminder of the man's company, and then went over what he had said before responding.

_A gift?!__  A gift?!  I don't want__ to be able to know what people are thinking!  I have enough trouble with my own thoughts, without__ other minds to look after!  What kind of gift is that?!_

Anger welled up inside him, so that everything seemed to be caked in a red light.  The man was surprised into silence, but only for a moment.

_I know, I know boy!__  For most people, the name for Gifts is most ironic, just wait for a moment, will you, and listen to me?!_

Neo struggled to calm down to a point where he could pay attention to what the man had to say.

_There are places where you can be taught how to control this Gift.  You are __in the Collegium, aren't you?  Gods help me if you're doing this from outside Haven . . ._

Neo felt like raising an eyebrow.

_. . . I'm in the Collegium._

He felt the man's relief before he "talked" again.

_Good.  Now, as I was saying, I'm going to seek you out, alright?  I'll take you to a few teachers, who will show you how to erect Shields and the like.  Don't.  Do.  Anything-__until then.__ He said firmly.  Neo agreed quietly, and then asked how he could get back to his room._

_Awareness will take some conscious effort on your part, he said; __just concentrate on your body and where it is.  Your mind will know what to do then._

Neo glided away from the man, and concentrated.

It did take some effort before he could puzzle out how to do it correctly, but eventually he got it right.

He awoke in his room, flesh cool and sweaty, breathing a little faster then usual, but everything in working condition.  He sighed in relief and eased out of bed.

He glanced out his window, where stars twinkled like shards of diamonds in the bruised blue of the night sky, and took a deep shaky breath.

The fire in his hearth was low, but still burned merrily, and made the room comfortably warm.

He sat down heavily on the sofa in the corner and grabbed a random book on the end table beside him.  Flipping through the pages with eyes focused elsewhere, he reflected over what had happened.

_It wasn't a dream . . . I know that much . . . but the man . . . when he offered help . . . did I create that in my desperation?  Did I make the man up entirely?_

He frowned when he felt an oncoming headache.

He had never been one to have headaches, so he did not know from its warnings if it would be terribly painful or just a little echo of what his mind had been putting him through.

He prayed silently for the later, while glancing around for pain killers incase the former decided to show up.

No items made themselves visible to him, and the headache was not slowing in its approach.  He shut his eyes and carefully placed his arm over his face.

"Why me?" he groaned out, before the pain escalated, and he could only shudder in total submission.

_I don't think even a Healer could do much against this . . . he thought vaguely, trying desperately to ignore it._

But focusing on anything else _hurt.  Opening his eyes hurt, breathing was beginning to hurt, even thinking threatened to harm him._

He had never had much pain in his life, beyond the usual emotional ups and down that regulated teenage lives and occasional fights they led him into, but nothing that made him want to just pass out.

Just pass out and never wake up.

***

Menith snapped warily out of his induced trance and shot to his feet.

He had been a Herald too long to take things like powerful Gifts lightly, and if he was right in this account (which he usually was) the boy that had entered the minds of every person in the Collegium was going to either be a most powerful asset to Valdemar, or one of its most dangerous secrets. . .

Either way, he had to find someone who could teach him Mind-Shields in so short a time, Shields that would keep the entire Collegium from coming in, and anything from going out.

He ignored the twinges in his shoulder as he opened door after door roughly, and stomped with sternness written all over him into his friend's room.

Kara looked up from her desk, raising an eyebrow silently, before sweeping an elegantly decorated arm to offer him a seat opposite her.

"We have a problem." He said shortly, taking the offered chair heavily.  She fixed him with her blue gaze, the one that said "I know" as clearly as if she had said it, and Menith shook his head.

"You might have sensed him a moment past . . . but there is an un-Chosen and most definitely dangerous Gift about to be unleashed." He fixed her with his own strong amber gaze and waited for her to answer.

That was the thing with Kara, it seemed that she didn't concern herself with time, and time likewise didn't concern itself with her.

She had been a Herald even before he had been Chosen, been through more life endangering rides and arrow points that it would have given all of the Trainees gray hair.

Yet she had not a spot on her head.  Not a single gray hair amongst her wine-red locks.

Even her Companion had more wrinkles then she did.  Menith always wondered how she did it, but somehow never had the time to ask.

"It seems like a problem indeed." She said simply, her voice the as young as the rest of her.  Sweet as a song bird's, but still holding age and command in its notes.

Aging gracefully was an understatement . . . but not aging a day . . . he could agree with that one.

"I was trancing, like I always do before I get to bed," he explained, sensing she wanted information before she offered her opinion, "and then he was there . . . I swear, I could almost feel him breathing on my face . . ." he suppressed a shudder at the ghostly thought.

"Go on." she prompted after a silent moment.

"Well . . . I approached him; I asked him who he was . . . damn-it all Kara, it was no more then a boy!  It takes time for Mind-Gifts like those to develop!  And he said he was loosing sleep over it!  He wanted me to tell him how to keep all the voices out . . . to make the Gift disappear . . ." he had never been good at hiding his emotions, never saw any reason to, but Kara's face remained carefully blank throughout his frustrated speech.

"I was too shocked to do anything . . . and he went back to his own thoughts . . . Kara, he seriously considered suicide to get rid of it!  He said it like he didn't mean it, like it was just a subconscious suggestion, but he was Projecting enough that I know he'll not drop the possibility."

Kara nodded, looking down at her entwined fingers.  Both stayed quiet for an extended time.

In the end it was Kara who broke it with her sweet singing voice.

"Yes, a very large problem.  Menith, you know what it feels like when one of the Heralds who Project die . . . particularly close to you . . . if he committed suicide he could very well take half the Collegium with him." Menith choked.

"H-half the Collegium?!  Oh gods!" this certainly made things harder.  Menith groaned and shoved his face into his hands.

_:Little__ brother . . .: his head raised a bit at the sound of his Companion's voice._

_:You__ heard, Hyatee?: he asked.  Hyatee confirmed it wordlessly, but seemed to have something on his mind._

_:Chosen__, you know who this boy is, don't you?: he asked in a knowing tone.  Menith drew himself up haughtily._

_:Of__ course I know-: he cut himself off the false statement and growled lightly at his amused Companion, __:Well, I'd have no trouble recognizing him.  He's got a pretty large presence.: he said with a little huff.  Hyatee's amusement grew, but his "voice" remained in the same tone it was always in._

_:You__ should try looking for him, and perhaps finding out more about him before you throw him into the midst of all this.  He probably isn't ready for any of it.: Menith had been through enough of life to know when a point was offered.  He didn't argue._

"The only way to solve this problem lies within this boy." He said allowed to Kara, "so I will go and warn him of what's to come.  I need you to think of someone who would be good at teaching him the basics and the details.  Someone that can put up with most everything.  An Empath maybe-" he shut himself up at the glance Kara gave him.

"I think I can handle that much, Menith.  Go fetch us our boy, and try to keep him from doing anything drastic . . . and don't do anything drastic yourself." She looked at him with one eyebrow raised and Menith scratched his head.

"Well . . . I'll be sure not to let him . . . or me." He added when she prompted him with another glance.  He left the room hastily, and walked down the corridor.

He wouldn't need to go into a trance to find the boy, he was probably unconsciously aware of him already, but he wouldn't be able to concentrate in Kara's presence.

Hyatee sent a soft teasing pulse through their bond.

_:I__ think someone has a crush . . .: Menith's mouth twitched as he turned a corner._

_:Be__ quite.  I need to concentrate.: a solitary snort was his response._

Before they either could make another noise, audible or otherwise, Menith was hit with the strongest Projecting pain he had ever felt.

He almost crippled himself falling forward before he could get his Shields in working condition.  In the end Hyatee had to help him.

_:__Chosen__!  Are you alright?: he asked, once Menith had finally come back up to his knees._

_:I__-I'm fine, Hyatee . . . tell me that wasn't Projection.: he groaned aloud, knowing the answer already._

_:I'm__ afraid it was, Heart-brother.  And it had the same taste as that boy.: Menith shook his head to rid it of any side effects and got to his feet._

_:Great__.  A Reaction headache for the whole Collegium.  We have to find him fast.: he closed his eyes and reached cautiously out of his Shields to find the source of the pain._

Only a few rooms away.  A couple steps in his direction and Menith already Sensed him with the Shields on full force.

_Gods help the people in the rooms next to him . . ._

***

Neo was screaming . . . or at least he _thought he was screaming.  Wither it was his mind (and others) or his mouth letting out the shattering resonance, he would never know._

All he knew then was that the headache was going to kill him, split his head open at best.

He was crouched on the floor, clutching his head like his life depended on it.  His whole body shook with agony, pined for release.

_A knife . . . a knife, my kingdom for a knife! _

Anything that would have ended it, or at least dulled it, he would have done _anything for at that moment.  Passing out, Healers, death . . . it was all the same to him, he wouldn't have preferred any of them, he would have taken them all one by one in order if it meant release._

His bleak emotions (because thinking in words was beyond him at the moment) took his head by storm.  Accompanying the torture hand in hand like some twisted portrait of young lovers.

Something happened then, he couldn't pinpoint what exactly, but someone else was with him, was trying to talk to him.

He certainly didn't want to be found like this, crumpled and begging for weaponry.  He made a heroic struggle to try and sort out who it was and what they wanted.

_If it's that damn girl again, wanting to be held, I'll kill her!  I don't care what her brother does to me!_

But it was no girl, for strong male hands had clasped firmly around his shoulders and he felt himself being dragged and carried out of his room.

But that was all he could gather, before pain struck him full in the face, and he cried out silently or audibly again.

***  
Menith sat outside the Healers room, trying to unclench his jaw.

Being so close to the boy as he dragged him there had rendered his Shields to mere pebbles.

He had never been in so much pain, and he had been through a _lot.  The poor boy . . . for a mere Dream-Walk to affect him so . . ._

_Gods only know what a real exercise would do to him . . ._

His bleak thoughts were cut off by the approaching footsteps of the boy's Healer.  Healer Y'von.

He rose from the bench and fidgeted while she approached.

"Be at peace, Herald Menith.  The boy will be fine." He felt his shoulders sag in relief, but he didn't lose all of his tenseness.

"Is he awake?" she brushed a loose lock of silvery-blond hair out of her sparkling green eyes and smiled for a moment.

"Yes, and just like any other boy, wanting to know when he can get up and go.  Why every Herald Trainee thinks this way is beyond me-" Menith raised his eyebrow.

"Trainee?  He-" Kara's voice stopped his flow of words.

_:He__ is to be called so at least for now, Menith.  I spoke with King's Own Jhaspar, and he agrees that we should keep his identity secret.: Menith frowned._

_:For__ Haven's sake, why Kara?  It doesn't matter to the Healers who they Heal!  They judge by soul, not by class.  And he is a child, Kara, souls don't come purer then that.: he didn't notice when Y'von slipped away back to the boy._

_:He__ is a child, yes, but he is also a Blue.  From what the Trainees have told Jhaspar, he is one of the cruelest.: Menith gaped._

_:Cruel__?!  But . . . oh, I'll argue with that later.  We have more important matters to see to.  Why must he be passed off as a Gray?: he asked, frustrated._

_:You__ have not been listening Menith.  Healers judge by soul, and if a cruel soul resides in his body, the Healing isn't worth the energy.  If the Healers should know this, their Healing won't be full, and the next time he has a Reaction Headache, it could be much worse.  Don't you see, Menith?  If he is posed as a Herald, soul searching isn't necessary.  We can't have him dying on us when his Projection might take everyone with him!  He must be Shielded, and then we can know for sure if he is cruel or not . . . if he isn't Healed correctly now, there will be no Healing later.:_

Menith sighed and sat back down on the bench.

_:Alright__, alright, I see your point.:_

_:Do__ you agree with it?: she persisted._

_:If__ I must.: he growled back.  _

_:You__ must Menith, for it will be you that will teach him to Shield.: Menith floundered, his concentration broken and the link between them severed for a moment.  He restored it swiftly._

_:Me__?!  I am no teacher, Kara!  What could I lecture him on?!: she sighed lightly._

_:You__ are wisest and most suited for the job.  You will not be awed, or angered by his Gift.  You will finish teaching him to Shield before it is too late.:_

Menith once again dropped the connection in his shock.  When he got it back he didn't think he could hold it for long.

_:You__ don't expect him to survive past the next Reaction.:_

Silence followed his statement, and then . . .

_:No__.:_

Authors note: Ack!  Days and day's of non-stop writing!  I hope it pleases the eye more then my mangled mess of a desk top does.  Coke cans . . . food wrappings . . . papers with notes on them _everywhere.  I think I even have my cat under this chaos.  Hope its not living off junk food, even though I am.  I plead contemporary insanity . . .     _

The only thing I think this fic needs is some more character depth.  Tell me if I didn't introduce everyone correctly.  I could always do it again . . . *passes out at thought of re-write*_        _

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	2. Let's add another notch on the bad day t...

Authors note: Yay!  Reviews!  And questions, which I will answer here: *if ya didn't ask a question or ya don't care, below the line of stars is the story (enjoy!)*

Aileen- Well, like Menith said before, "It takes time for Mind-Gifts like those to develop".  I'm afraid that the worse is yet to come, so I'd say he's more like Van then just sensitive.

Matt- Good question.  Van had to deceive Y'fandes, remember?  When he- well, if ya don't remember, go read his trilogy again.  Anyway, Menith didn't exactly lie to Hyatee, he is always on the defensive about things, and fast comebacks slip through his mind before they do his tongue.  But I don't think Hyatee could be fooled, even if Menith tried. ^_^

Herald Mystylenna- *smiles* all good questions, unfortunately I can only answer a few, to keep this story interesting and suspenseful ^_^.  Well, Neo's at the Collegium because . . . you'll find out probably next chapter ^_^, girls chasing him?  Next chapter again . . . and what does he look like?  I'm sorry if I didn't put a good description of him in the first chapter . . . but there is one.  Dark brown hair and sharp eyes basically.  And why hasn't his Companion Chosen him yet?  *grins evilly* A few more chapters until that's answered . . .

And to two of my reviewers- I'm sorry, I had to update this first, but Magic in its Many Forms will be updated soon, never fear!

And, of course, Midnight.Star- *returns the hug* well what else could I do, if not return the favorite authors favor?  *pats Hyreli, but passes on the ride* I don't think he'd like me as much as he likes you, I'm not much of a rider ^_^.

*************************

Menith's boots clicked methodically as he walked down the hall.  He had yet to talk with the boy who was causing the whole of the Heralds so much trouble, but he would have to soon.

He had never been good at avoiding things or people, and it was thanks to many miracles and Hyatee's fast hooves that he had survived his ironically un-chosen career so far.

But he had never been up against something like this.

Arrows, fire, wind, snow, and magic he could work with.  Mind Gifts too powerful to imagine was something way out of his league.

_And I'm supposed to be the most qualified!  Hah!_

He stopped walking, looked narrowly at the door which held the boy, and crossed his arms thoughtfully.

_I might as well get this over with.  He should be too sedated to know truth from lie, even if he did use his Gift, so now would be the best time to tell him something about being called a Herald Trainee . . ._

His quick mind began spinning ideas about, and Menith gave it a moment or two before opening the door and stepping quietly inside.

The first thing that met his eyes was the boy himself, propped up by pillows and as pale as ice.  He blinked large dark eyes at Menith in silent question.

Menith smiled unevenly and took the stool meant for Healers that lay beside the bed.

"I hope you had some rest, lad." An embarrassing realization came to him.

_Damn it all . . . what is this boy's name?  I don't recall anyone telling it to me . . . _

_:Neoka__ Marron.  Son of a local aristocrat, Chosen.: Hyatee provided helpfully.  Menith sighed._

_:I know he's a Noble.: he said, thinking bitterly of the short talk he had with Kara only a few short minutes ago, __:but thank you for the information just the same.: he added._

Neoka was still watching him.

"I'm sorry sir, but you don't look like a Healer . . ." he trailed off and a spark of something flashed momentarily in his eyes.  Menith could have sworn it was recognition, but it was so brief that he couldn't be sure.

"No, no I'm not a Healer.  I'm Herald Menith.  We . . . talked . . . just last night." The recognition returned and Neoka's mouth opened a small amount, before he seemed to realize he was gaping a little, and closed it.

"Oh." He said simply, diverting his gaze.  Menith sighed.  He had never been good with Nobles, never had any respect when it came to them, not if they hadn't earned it.

"Yes, well, we have quite a few things to work out Neoka.  The first of which is about your lessons." He stopped and studied the boy for his reaction.

He was rewarded by only an emotionless glance.

"I'm well ahead of my year-mates, Herald.  I do not think a few days spent in the Healers Wing will dent my studies.  I have been coming to the Collegium since I was only eight." He offered, keeping the cold exterior.

Menith watched him worriedly.  This boy was completely different then the one the night before.  It took a lot of self control to keep such rapid and strong thoughts like his under such a flawless façade.

_Blood must be true, to be coming from the Marron's, he thought idly, returning to the problem at hand._

"Not those lessons.  The lessons on your Gift.  On how to Shield.  It has been decided that I will be your teacher." Another emotionless glance, but that was it.

"Oh." He said again.  Frustration welled up inside Menith.

"Neoka, I wouldn't usually lower my Shields and see what's inside that head of yours, but you're really pushing it.  You need to be taught lad!  Before you-" he cut himself off and grinded his teeth together.

Neoka fixed him with a stare that almost had him as frustrated as before, and then he answered.

"I don't want to know what people are thinking." He said firmly, surprisingly firm in Menith's ears.  He didn't doubt him for a second, "I don't want people to know what I'm thinking.  There must be a way to stop this!" desperation now made itself apparent in the boy's gaze, and Menith fought the unfamiliar urge to fidget.

"No.  Once a Gift is active, that's it.  But with Shields you can stop thoughts yourself, it would be a type of block, I suppose." He explained, leaning forward to place his arms on his knees.

They both remained silent for a few more moments, and when Neoka finally spoke it was with great reluctance.

"Then . . . it is the only way.  Once I have Shields, I can forget about it?" Menith shook his head.

"If you don't control the Gift, it will control you.  You must be taught how to direct it, that is the only way." He wasn't looking at Neoka, but the white sheets on the bed moved minutely as if he had flinched.

"I didn't ask for this," the boy said quietly, to himself probably.

_Neither did I, Menith thought silently._

_:But__ you both got it.  Do what you can for him little brother, but make him understand what is expected of him.: Hyatee said suddenly in his mind.  Menith shook his head._

_:I__ don't think the boy has ever had any responsibility placed upon him before this . . . he'll do something drastic to get away from it, is my bet.: what a loss . . ._

_:No!  __Menith, it mustn't be so!  He must learn to accept the Gift, for the sake of Valdemar!  You must __teach him to accept and to control.: Menith blinked._

_:What__?  You sound as if the boy were destined, Hyatee!  I tell you, it will take longer then before his next Reaction Headache to teach him responsibility.  Kara does not expect him to live beyond that, remember?: what was he quarrelling about?  Why was he arguing that the boy would die?  Why on Velgarth would he think such a thing?!  Even as he asked himself these questions, he knew the answer.  Kara was right, the next Reaction Headache would be stronger then the first . . . and to one so frail as a child, it would be a lethal blow._

_:I__ remember her and the foolishness she thought was sense.  But listen __Chosen__; the boy must survive, his Journey is not to end here, but it will only be so if you __make it so.  Please Menith, please help him through it.: _

Menith was stunned into silence.  What did his Companion know about Neoka that no others knew?

"Herald?  Herald?" he was brought back to reality by Neoka's increasingly worried calls.  He smiled softly for a moment, trying to look reassuring.

"Sorry . . . anyway, we have to discuss something . . ."

Neoka watched him carefully.

"Is it about the Healer calling me a Herald Trainee?" he asked.  Menith looked at him sharply.

"Yes.  You didn't refute her did you?" he didn't know what answer he wanted to hear, but waited patiently for the boy to talk.

"No . . . I didn't say anything.  I thought that there was a good reason behind it.  Would you kindly explain, Herald?" Menith hated it when people became so stiffly polite; they always expected him to do exactly the same thing, though he never could.

He couldn't even be plain civil most of the time.

"I would . . ." he had to think on his feet, if he was going to get the boy to believe him, "Healer Y'von, your Healer, is the only one with experience in Reaction Headaches.  She knows everything there is about them," so far he hadn't lied . . ., "Reaction headaches are side effects of overexerted Gifts, and yours was enough to bring the Collegium down.  The easiest way to explain how a child had that much power was that he had been Chosen, and his Gifts awakened.  Companions rouse our Gifts, when they Choose, Neoka.  If it were to be known a boy had such power, without the help of a Companion . . . bad things could happen." It was a different aspect of the truth.  He had given a worthy excuse, and it was the truth!  

His self congratulations didn't last long.

"And just how long do you expect people to believe this little white lie?  I don't have a Companion, and my uniform consists of blue, not gray.  I think I would be found out in a matter of days." Neoka's face closed off, and Menith could tell that there were more problems the boy had found, but didn't feel like exposing just then.

"We can pass you off as a Herald Trainee until your Gift is trained, but you have to act the part.  Don't talk with too many people, and don't be caught doing anything you shouldn't." the last part had come out wrong.  An echo of Kara's thoughts on how the boy might be cruel.  But before Menith could take back what he said, the boy responded.

"And in exchange for this . . . you teach me to put up Shields." He was straightforward, a surprising attribute in his age and class.    _     _

"Yes.  The details are working themselves out now.  Lessons will be everyday, whenever I have time to spare." He got up from the stool and stretched, "Rest, Neoka.  You need it." And with that last word Menith was gone. The door swung with the smallest of squeaks and Neoka barely caught a glimpse of the Herald's boot before it disappeared around the corner with the rest of him.

With a soft sigh Neo dropped back among his pillows and watched the ceiling.

_The Herald's right . . . I do need sleep . . . and that Healer gave me too many sedatives to hear thoughts anytime soon . . . his own thoughts drifted away, and the only sound in the room was the soft snoring of an exhausted boy._

***

Neo woke slowly, his eyes flickering open.

Light filled the room, making the crisp white sheets bright enough to make him blink.  The whole room was white, with beds either empty or holding sleeping and bandaged patients.

But the light wasn't the thing that awoke Neo.

Pain filled screeching, louder then anything he had ever heard was the reason.  He looked around.

Healers were crowded around a bed only a few spaces away from him.  He sat up and watched, wincing as the screams doubled in shrillness.

Whoever the Healers were standing around, whoever was screaming like that, must be in worse pain then he was with his Reaction headache.  Neo watched silently, trying to keep from wincing, as the Healers continued to Heal, seemingly unperturbed by the ear-splitting wails.

He glanced at the sleeping patients to his left and noticed that they didn't seem to hear the noise either.  It was very strange, considering the noise was enough to give Neo another Reaction headache.

Through the deafening cries he could barely hear the Healers talking with each other.

"Thank the gods he's not conscious . . . he'd take every other patient in here with him, if only by his screams." A sympathetic voice said.  Neo shook his head.

_Not conscious? What did that mean?_

He closed his eyes and tried to block out the screaming.  Putting his hands over his ears didn't help, and burying his head in his pillow didn't either.

"Neoka," A voice sounded near his ear.  He sat up and looked Healer Y'von, trying not to grimace at the howls, "Menith was here earlier, while you were asleep.  He wanted me to tell him when you were awake, so that he could start his lessons." Even through the distractive noise Neo could clearly hear her disapproval, "Would you like me to tell him you're awake?"

He nodded, thinking that the Herald might be able to do something about the shrieks.

Healer Y'von sighed, smiled lightly at him, and exited the room.

Neo stole another glance at the group of Healers.  Some were leaving now, shaking their heads in confusion, and Neo caught a look at the person on the bed.

His face was contorted in pain, sweat covered his body, and his fists were clenched so tight they made Neo's hands hurt just looking at them.

But his mouth wasn't open.  He wasn't screaming aloud.  The room should have been silent, but the screaming continued.

Neo knew the yells came from the man, without knowing how he knew, and fixed his gaze stubbornly on the door until Menith passed through it, looking nervously at the group of Healers.

He approached Neo and smiled momentarily, then sat on the stool he had used last time.

"Have a nice rest?" he asked.  Neo nodded, leaning back against the pillows and fixing Menith with what he hoped was an unreadable stare.

"Herald . . . what's wrong with that man?" Menith blinked and looked over his shoulder, where Neo was pointing.  He remained silent for a few moments, then turned back and fixed Neo with a deep amber stare.

"I don't know, but it doesn't look like a flesh wound, so it probably isn't that painful.  It might just be a new sickness the Healers discovered." Neo looked back at the 'screaming' man.

"I think it's very painful . . . you . . . you don't hear him?" Menith was a source of information, the very first Herald Neo had ever talked to, and becoming more of a reliable source of comfort at every moment.  Menith smiled when Neo talked with him, he answered questions, and he was the only one to visit him so far.  Maybe he would be able to answer some confusing subjects.

"I don't hear him, Neoka.  He's unconscious, he isn't making any noise." Menith sounded patient, but also curious.  Neo hesitated, then continued.

"I know he's unconscious.  But he is making noise.  He's screaming . . . but I seem to be the only one hearing him." Menith looked startled, and Neo silently berated himself for giving the Herald a chance to think he was crazy.

Menith wasn't thinking anything of the sort, in fact he was more surprised Neo could even see the "screaming" patient with all the drugs he'd been given, much less hear the mind screaming.

He looked at the group of Healers and thought hard.

"Maybe . . . if I lower the Shields . . ." he thought aloud, and tentively lowered his defenses.

He slammed them back up immediately.

Screams like no other he had ever heard were still echoing inside his head, and he knew his face had gone pale.

"Herald?" Neo asked, seeing the change.

"Yes . . . yes, the man is screaming, Neoka.  I had better Shield you myself, for now, or else you won't be able to concentrate." Menith said shakily, doing just that.

Neo blinked.  It was quiet!  The screams had ceased to nearly blind him with sound!  He looked gratefully at Menith.

"Thank you . . . can you keep these up?" he asked, a little worried of the answer.  It was blissfully noiseless in his mind, except for his own thoughts, and he could no longer 'sense' where people were.

"No . . . I can only do so now because your Gift is sedated, and recently awakened.  I'll keep them up until you can make your own though." He promised, which was good enough for Neoka.

"Thank you," he said again.  The Herald nodded, and his instruction began.

By the time Menith left, Neo was exhausted.  Both of them were surprised at how fast he had learned, and Menith was extremely pleased when Neo could erect and hold a firm Shield for as long as ten minutes.

"Good!" he had praised, clapping his hands and beaming at him, "Very good!  If you keep this up you should be able to put up full Shields before your next Reaction."

Neo had been so relieved to hear that, though he had been panting at the exertion of spending that much energy, that he had smiled fully at the Herald, making Menith seem surprised once more.

Neo could barely even open his eyes anymore, and as he slipped unresistingly back into unconsciousness, he smiled at Menith's Shields, and his own, tiny reinforcements.

***

"Damn it, I tell you he will be ready to Shield before he gets out of the Healer's grasp!" Menith shouted angrily, hands balled into angry fists on Kara's desk.  She observed and listened to him calmly, but her disbelief was as clear as the moon outside her window.

"He isn't Chosen, he is only a child, and has a questionable soul.  Menith, I see no way Neoka could erect powerful enough Shields to protect his Gift." She held up her hand when he opened his mouth to shout some more, "But I will talk with Jhaspar about the possibility." She fell silent and eyed him critically.

"Very well." Menith growled, finding no other way to do things.

"And I will also see the boy's progress.  If he doesn't have powerful enough Shields by the end of this week, Menith . . ." she stopped, but Menith knew what she was threatening.

"You can't.  I won't let you." He stated, feeling his muscles tense at the thought of what the Heralds would be forced to do to Neoka.

Kara had a point, even though Menith would probably never admit it.  Neoka could become _extremely dangerous if the full strength of his Gift were let loose.  Under that kind of pressure, the Heralds would be forced to "do something" about the problem._

One loss chosen over many.

Menith felt himself becoming sick at the thought, and he turned his rage upon the graceful and silent Kara.

"I won't let you destroy him because he is something you don't understand!  Something you can't control!  I don't care if the whole Collegium is against me, I wont let you kill him!" there, he had said aloud what both were afraid to say.  Kara's delicate skin paled a shade or two, but she didn't loose her collectiveness.

"I hope things do not become so that you are forced against us, Menith.  I hope this will not turn out as we have predicted." It wasn't what Menith wanted to hear, and he proved this by stalking out of her room and down the hall.

_They can't call themselves Heralds if they think death is an option! Menith seethed to himself as he reached his own chamber, __If I say Neoka can erect full Shields, he can damn well do it!  Who does she think she is, making an ultimatum like that for only a boy?!_

He was so distressed and concerned with Neo's welfare, he almost didn't Hear Hyatee.

_:Don't__ think of it like that, __Chosen__,: he said soothingly, __:Kara must think of the pain and death Neoka could bring, she must prepare for the worst.  Such as we must push for the best.  Kara is indeed remorseful for what she might have to do, but she accepts her duty, because she is __a Herald.: Menith shook his head, calming in this explanation of Kara's attitude, and slumped onto his bed._

_:I__ wont let her do her duty, if it comes to that, Hyatee.  Neoka is not cruel . . . he smiled at me today, even though I didn't do much for him, and his smile was not cruel__.  He is only a boy, for Haven's sake!: he said, frustrated.  He Felt Hyatee's understanding, and it calmed him more._

_:That is why we must work to strengthen Neoka, and save the Collegium.: for some reason Menith got the feeling Hyatee was talking about some other "saving of the Collegium", then the one they would bring about through Neoka's training.  But he couldn't pinpoint the feeling, so he let it go._

Immediately a new problem came to him, waiting until he got over his anger, and Menith cursed aloud.

_The sickness, that Neoka Heard!  I meant to ask Kara about that . . . he would look like an idiot, strolling into her room and acting like nothing had happened.  Instead, he decided to ask the Healer Y'von about it._

Getting up a little reluctantly from the bed, he again left his room in search of answers.

***

Healer Y'von sat on her cushioned sofa with a soft sigh.  The day had been exhausting, to say the least.  First, the mysterious Herald Trainee, with the deep wounds from his Reaction Headache, and then the mysterious farmer with the unknown mind sickness.

It was enough to make Y'von want to curl up and sleep forever.

But her Healer nature kept her from doing any such thing.  She had a lot to think about, even if the day was over.

The puzzling Trainee Neoka, for one.  He was quiet, polite, and didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to get away from the Healer's Wing.  It was very much unlike every other Trainee she had ever Healed.

Add that to the Heralds that seemed to be walking on eggshells around him, and Y'von was more then suspicious.  She was down right wary of finding out anything about Neoka, afraid she would never see the quiet child in the same light again.

Y'von always assumed the best of people, even those that had killed openly in front of her.  She was too much of an Empath, and had seemingly always been so, that it was too late to change her ways.  She never liked knowing a person too well, or her frail dream of everyone having good intentions would undoubtedly shatter, and even though she was consciously aware of this fault of hers, she didn't want to change it.

Neoka seemed almost like the person who could shatter this outlook on life.  There was something in his gaze, in his very voice, that made everyone on edge.  He wasn't exactly cold, but he certainly wasn't open and warm.  

Y'von didn't know what to think of him.  Cold people were usually hiding something, and that often went with the open, warm people as well.  Both parties concealed something; they were just different in their tactics of hiding.

Neoka belonged to neither cold, nor warm.  He answered questions with just enough information to satisfy, never looked upon someone with anything less then a cool observation-gaze, and at the same time didn't seem to be hiding anything at all.

Y'von was sure that if she asked the right questions she would know everything there was to know about him, but she was discouraged by such questions from everything he represented.

She was held back by the learned method of not asking a Herald how he had gotten his wounds, her own nature of assuming the best, and Neoka's own mysterious way of daunting any relative inquiries.

It seemed almost subconscious of him to do so, making the matter even more confusing.

Before she could bury herself anymore, a knock on her door came.  It was a rash, hard knock.  Impatience evident.

_Oh gods, not another problem . . ._

"Come in." she called, keeping her depression out of her voice.  The door opened, revealing none other then Herald Menith.

"Herald!  What a pleasant surprise, come in please.  Would you like something to drink?" she was getting up to find some drink, but Menith waved her down and shook his head.

"No, no thank you Y'von.  Nothing to drink . . . I would like to talk." He seemed nervous about something.  Y'von nodded, trying to give off a soothing aurora, and offered a seat next to her.

"What about Menith?" she asked as he sat.  He took a moment, obviously thinking deeply, before turning his amber eyes on her.

"You had a patient come in today, a few beds away from the Trainee Neoka.  What ails him?" Y'von was surprised.  She had assumed Menith had come to discuss Neoka, but she was wrong.

"We . . . we're not sure.  It's nothing physical, he's as strong as any farmer should be, it seems to be in his mind." She slowly traced small spirals on her green tunic, not meeting his eyes.  

"In his mind?" he urged her forward.  She nodded.

"Not any mind-sickness that we have ever come across.  So far, there are only a few stricken with it, all on Valdemar's side of the border between us and Hardorn.  Hann, the farmer, is the first, and has been sick for almost a month." She fell silent, the spirals becoming more elaborate.

"What causes it?" Menith asked.  She shook her head.

"That's the thing . . . the family was questioned, they say nothing had been wrong with him before.  It just came all of a sudden, no one knows how." She continued her swirls, after looking up at him for a moment, "He was just fine, and then, one day, he wouldn't wake up.  There wasn't a fever, and he was still breathing, he just wouldn't wake up.  Later on he started to get that pained expression, and he's been that way ever since.  The family had the Herald on Sector Riding over there take him back here." Menith remained silent for a moment.

"What do you think is causing it?" Y'von halted in her spirals, glancing at him quickly.

She had a theory . . . but she hadn't told anyone yet, and it was probably less likely to be true.

"Well . . ." she smoothed her tunic and placed her hands upon her knee, "There is something blocking the King's Own Jhaspar, a Mind Healer, from getting in.  No mind sickness can do that . . . I think it might have come from a Mage . . . over the border." She wasn't looking at him directly, but saw the quick movement of his hand.  She should have known it would sound wrong aloud.

"A Mage-made sickness?" Menith asked finally, breaking the silence with a voice that almost trembled.  Y'von nodded.

"But it is only a theory . . . I have no proof, other then Jhaspar not being able to help.  He might know more then me about this whole thing." 

"Or he might not." Menith said, sounding a little irritated, "But whatever the cause, you might want to know, he screams through his mind.  Neoka can Hear it." He got up, seemingly to leave.  Y'von stopped him with a frail hand upon his wrist.

"He . . . he can?  I think Jhaspar might have said something about that . . . Menith, what is it about Neoka?" she asked abruptly, startling both herself and the Herald, "There's something . . . not quiet right about him."

Menith stayed silent and still, and Y'von was afraid she had angered him, but he answered after a moment.

"It's better that you not know." He said simply, and left.

Y'von gazed at the closed door.

_Better for whom?  Me, or Neoka . . . or you, Herald Menith?_

***

Neo stirred, his eyes flickering open.  It seemed he had just closed his eyes, but the window held only a bright moon and some stars, rather then the blinding afternoon sun.

He sat up and rubbed his head, looking immediately to his right.

The "screaming" man still lay there, and without the horde of Healers around him, Neoka got a good look.

From his clothes, he was a farmer, probably from the border.  His face was drenched in sweat, and his matted brown hair wasn't longer then two inches.

Neo watched, and as he watched, he listened.

The jarring screams had lessened, becoming sort of like a muffled echo of what they had been.  He silently thanked Menith for the Shields.

_Please . . . make it stop . . . please, let me die! _

Neoka almost jumped at the foreign thought.  It had a bitter taste to it, something that made Neo want to cringe.  It had come from the unconscious man.

It was worse then the screams.  Pleads for death, coming rapidly and loudly, begin to make Neo's body shake.

"What . . . what can I do?" he whispered hoarsely to himself, his hand fisted against his sheets.

_Please . . . PLEASE!_

Neo almost screamed at the pain projecting from that last desperate plea, and without knowing what he was doing, without thinking about anything but stopping the man's suffering, he took hold of his own energy, and burned the blackness in the man's mind, until the power he held dwindled into nothing, and the black had been obliterated.

He shot back into his own mind and crumpled down upon the bed.  He was going to pass out, he knew it.  There was nothing left even to twitch a finger.

With a last, final exertion, he turned his head and looked at the man.  No screams met his "ears", the farmer's face looked calm, and his chest was rising and falling normally.  

Neo almost smiled in relief.  The black-bitter taste in the air had vanished.

And then, because Neo could not and indeed would not, hold onto reality any longer, he slipped into a faint, face pale, and body limp.

Authors note: *pales* are all of this stories chapters going to be this long?  I don't know about you, but these kind of chap's are going to make my fingers fall off!  But, if it's any consolation, I'm really getting into this story . . . 

Review, review, review!!!  And tell me if you're getting into it as well! _                             _


	3. Convincing Amaro, among other things

Authors note: Hey all!  Glad you stopped by for a peak.  Be prepared for the longest read I've turned out yet.  But I think I did an okay job with it, considering I'm actually sticking to my plot this time!  Anyway, a very cool friend has a site up: http://deranged_anime_fan.tripod.com and she's posted this fic!  Yay!  Go check it out!  Er, but be prepared for some adult rated fics there as well, easily missed, but just as easily found.  Wonderful site!  Thanx, Goddess of Insanity (AKA Nell)  And read on!

Jhaspar, Kings Own Herald of almost ten years, was mystified beyond belief.  He walked down the empty corridor in the Palace with no direction in mind.  He always thought better when he was moving, and he needed to think now, more then ever.

A new sickness was beginning to sweep his beloved Valdemar.  One that no one knew anything about.  Even using his own Mind Healing powers he gathered no more information then the Healers.  He had visited and Tranced and Searched the sick farmer until he had almost collapsed in exhaustion, and still he knew nothing relevant about the virus that blocked the man from being Healed.

Jhaspar despised not being in control, he hated it when things couldn't be affected by his efforts, and this seemed like one of those times.

_:Not true little brother.: Jhaspar stopped his so far unproductive walking and stood still to listen to his Companion, Carogan, __:Things are only out of your control if you do nothing about them.:_

_:But how can I do anything about this damn sickness when I cant get over the blocks?: he asked, frustrated.  _

_:True, you__ can not get over the blocks.  But someone already has.: Jhaspar froze._

_:What?!: _

_:The boy that is currently another national security problem, housed in the same room as the virus patient, has cured him.: Carogan clarified patiently._

_:The-the boy?  The one with the Mind Gift?: it was not possible . . . a mere boy, with a strong enough Gift to get over the blocks that had kept Jhaspar out so effectively?_

_:It is possible __Chosen__.  We should take this time to question the farmer, in case he knows something we do not about his illness.:_

Jhaspar struggled out of his shock and agreed, turning around and heading down the hall towards the Healers Collegium.

***

The farmer was wide awake when Jhaspar reached his room, and surrounded by Healers.  The boy that had supposedly Healed the man was sleeping very deeply only a few beds away, apparently unperturbed by the ruckus going on so near to him.

Jhaspar swept himself next to the farmer elegantly, effectively sending almost all of the Healers out the door in the same move.  Only the most stubborn of the lot remained in the room, watching him with wary eyes as they checked on other patients.

"Good evening," Jhaspar said, smiling to relax the nervous patient, "I am Herald Jhaspar.  How are you feeling?" the farmer was clearly perplexed by Jhaspar's visit and tone, but his Border upbringing quickly took care of the shock.

"Well 'nough, I suppose." He said, averting his eyes.  Jhaspar's smile warmed even more, and he continued to engage the man in polite conversation until he made eye contact again.

"Well, Hann," he had learned the man's name during their talk, "I wanted to ask just one more thing of you."

"Aye?" Hann asked, the instinctive wariness in his blood perking up its ears at Jhaspar's off-hand tone.

"Yes, I wanted to know if you remember anything while you were sick, or when you became sick." Jhaspar's smile was gone, but he kept his face relaxed and calm, knowing that any other emotion would bring out Hann's Border instincts even more.

"I'll tell ya what I told them Healers.  Don't 'member anythin' 'cept pain.  As for comin' down with it . . ." he scratched at his tangled beard for a moment, looking thoughtful, "can't 'member much of that either . . ." 

Jhaspar sighed.  So much for that source of information . . .

"'Cept . . ." Hann continued, raising Jhaspar's hopes, "'cept that, there I was, out bringen in th' crops . . . an' all of a sudden like, this voice pops in me skull.  Aint me own, tis' someone else!  Mean sound'en voice too.  Starts to mumble, really soft, then it gets louder, and then . . . then there's jus' pain."

Jhaspar reached out a hand automatically to comfort the Borderer, but hesitated.  People like this farmer were brought up differently then he had been.  They didn't need nor want comfort, and were damn well proud of it.  The very fragile starting of a friendship could easily be broken by breaking some unwritten rule and actually insulting Hann when he was trying to console him.

Jhaspar's hand dropped and he silently waited until Hann appeared to be calm again.  The Borderer seemed to have not noticed Jhaspar's hand moving, so Jhaspar momentarily forgot about it, beginning to engage Hann with more conversation.

The sun was well on its way to setting when Jhaspar left the room, reassuring the Healers that Hann's mind was sustaining no damage on his way out.  He sent a furtive glance to the slumbering Blue that had allegedly saved Hann, but allowed himself no more then that.

Walking down the hall, speaking with Carogan silently, he almost ran straight into Herald Menith, obviously on his way to see Neoka.

They exchanged a slight nod and cool smiles, but both Heralds felt something rather odd with the other.

_:You are not mistaken in your suspicions, little brother.: Carogan said suddenly in Jhaspar's mind, __:Menith has threatened to go against the Heralds if they choose to destroy the young Blue.:_

It was a good thing Menith had already passed, because Jhaspar's face would have clearly given away what he felt about Carogan's statement.

_:Against the Heralds?!  What does his Companion have to say about all this?: he asked, more for a loss of words then out of curiosity._

_:Hyatee is a law unto himself.  He has his reasons for siding with his __Chosen__, which I will not get myself or you into.: Jhaspar leaned against the wall weakly._

_:Why . . . why would he side with the Blue?  We don't even know that much about him!  And what we do know points to nothing good . . . these aren't the makings of a MindHealer.: if Jhaspar could have been anymore puzzled that day, then he might well have exploded._

_:No, from what we know he will not make an honorable MindHealer.: Carogan agreed, __:But, like you said, we do not know that much about him.:_

_:He isn't Chosen.: Jhaspar pointed out, running down the list of faults he had received from Kara and the Trainees mentally.  He Felt Carogan snort in his head._

_:That means nothing except that he isn't Chosen.  Jhaspar, you of all people should know that not having a Companion doesn't mean one cannot be good, it merely means one cannot be a Herald.: Jhaspar sighed._

_:Yes, yes Caro, you're right . . . but still . . . from what I have heard of him . . .: he began._

_:From what you have heard he is nothing more or less then a Blue.  Do not judge what you do not know.: Jhaspar almost flinched at the coldness in Carogan's Voice.  He had never been harsh before . . . was there something Jhaspar was missing, something that Carogan was trying to tell him?_

_:I . . .: he couldn't think of anything to say, and neither, it seemed, could Carogan._

***

Menith stopped dead in his tracks once he was around the corner and out of sight of Herald Jhapsar.

_:Hyatee.: he called after Jhaspar's clicking boots faded away._

_:Here.: Hyatee responded._

_:What is Jhaspar hiding?: he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms._

_:More then I would like to know.: Hyatee responded, evading the question.  Menith wouldn't let it go._

_:Is it something about Neoka?: had the Heralds decided to actually get rid of him, before Menith had a chance to do anything about it?  Hyatee sighed in his mind._

_:You are acting like a Companion with her colt, Chosen.: he almost growled aloud at the peaceful image Hyatee sent him, __:No, it is not something that immediately involves Neoka.: he added after a tense moment._

_:What do you mean 'immediately'?  It either involves him or it doesn't.: another sigh in his mind._

_:It is something Neoka did, rather then Neoka himself, Jhaspar has discovered . . . and he is not hiding it.: Menith closed his eyes and made a mental note to make Hyatee run the obstacle course once he was done with Neoka . . . at least until one hoof falls off, __:Now, now, I was just about to tell you what it was!:_

_:Well?  What is it?: Menith asked, still nettled about the Companion and colt picture Hyatee had sent him._

_:The virus patient has been cured, and it appears to be little Neoka that has done the curing.: Hyatee said simply, unperturbed by Menith's impatience._

_:He . . . cured the farmer?: for a moment he couldn't have moved from his spot on the wall if he wanted to, but he quickly got the strength and began to move rapidly towards Neoka's room, __:How?  When?:_

_:Last night, and no one seems to know just how.:_

Menith was suddenly standing outside Neoka's room, secretly amazed that he had been able to walk that fast.  He didn't dwell upon it as he entered the room.

There, sitting up on his bed, completely conscious and pain free, talking with five or six Healers, was none other then the farmer.

_:Gods . . .: was all Menith could manage, letting Hyatee see what he was seeing.  It was a drastic change from the ball of silent screaming the man had been a day before.  He dragged his eyes away from him, and settled them on the slumbering form of the boy._

_:Should I wake him?: he asked Hyatee as he made his way over to the side of Neoka's bed._

_:Things need to be answered, Chosen.  He can rest later.: Menith nodded and gently shook Neoka's shoulder._

***

Neo snapped out of the deepest sleep he had ever been in the moment someone touched him.  He would have just as quickly sat up, but the energy it required wasn't there.  Instead he rolled over and blinked blurry eyes at his new visitor.

"Gods boy, you _do look like you just MindHealed." Neo's eyes focused at the sound of Herald Menith's voice._

"Oh . . . I forgot about the lesson today . . ." he began working on getting an apology to his mouth, but Menith stopped him with a slight wave of his hand, brushing the matter aside.

"Nothing to worry about," he said, "we have to talk about something else anyway." Neo nodded and struggled to sit up.  In the end Menith had to assist him.

Neo waited for Menith to start the conversation.

"You remember that 'screaming' patient?  The one we Shielded you from yesterday?" Menith began.  Neo nodded warily.  Why was Menith talking about it?  Had he . . . when he tried to Heal the man did something go wrong?

"Is he . . ." he trailed off, thinking that it would most definitely come out differently then how he meant it.

"He's Healed, boy!" Menith said, smiling.  Neo left out a shaky sigh of relief, but kept silent.

Menith waited for a moment, but when he was certain that Neo would not pick up in the talk, he continued.

"Neoka . . . do you know how he was Healed?" he asked.  Neo glanced at him, and then slowly nodded his head.

"I . . . I woke up . . . and the Shields weren't working . . . I could hear him, in my head . . ." for some reason Neo didn't know how to continue.  Thankfully, Menith spoke up before either could become uncomfortable in the silence.

"And you Healed him . . . it's as simple as that." He murmured to himself.  Neo nodded.

"So . . . I didn't do anything wrong?" he asked hesitatingly.  Menith looked surprised.

"Wrong?  No!  No, anything but, Neoka." He smiled and Neo relaxed, "Well, I have to talk with some people about all this . . . and you aren't in any shape for Gift lessons.  I'll come back later, and I want you to sleep until then." He ordered, preparing to leave.  Neo took a deep breath.  Now that he was awake, questions about what he had done flashed through his mind.

_How did I do it?  Will I be able to do it again?  Will it always take so much energy?  Can I block this too? And then, before he could stop it: __Do I want to?_

His eyes widened at the thought.  Why _wouldn't he want to block it?!  This power was too much for him, he didn't even know what it could do . . . and probably didn't want to do half of it!  Wouldn't it be easier just to block it and be done with it?_

But Menith had said that was impossible . . . 

Neo clutched his hair weakly in frustration.  What was he supposed to do?  What _could he do?_

"Eh, boy." He dropped his hands and glanced where the voice was coming from.  He blinked.

The farmer that he had Healed the night before was studying him a few beds away.

"My name is Neoka, sir." He said after a moment.  The farmer snorted.

"You the one who Healed me, aint ya?" he asked, or rather, demanded.  Neo nodded, "Well . . . thank'e." Neo blinked once more.

_He . . . he just thanked me . . . and without warning Neo felt a kinship with the farmer.  Something like the unspoken bond of protector and protectorate._

Neo averted his eyes.  _Protector?  Is that what he was?  _

It was too much to take in, so Neo leaned back against his pillows and sighed.  He closed his eyes and thought about nothing except sleep.

***

Menith hesitated for a moment outside Herald Kara's room.  The last he had spoken to her had been very unpleasant.  Secretly he knew that Kara would act like nothing of the sort had happened between them, but Menith couldn't act like her.  He would be uncomfortable throughout the whole thing, and she would know it.

But, if he wanted answers about Neoka and what he could do . . . and also what the rest of the Heralds thought he could do, then he would just have to be uncomfortable.

A small snicker in the back of his mind, accompanied with an image of a Companion standing protectively over her colt, made Menith growl.

_:You're not helping.: he said, feeling his bicep twitch under the strain of not quiet opening the door to Kara's room._

_:I didn't mean to help anyway, Heart-brother.: Hyatee responded, his chuckles increasing.  Menith ignored him, and opened the door._

"Kara?" he asked, when he did not see her behind her desk.

"Menith, please come in." Kara greeted from the shaded corner where her small couch sat.  He entered the room, trying to adjust his eyes.  A small silence ensued.

"I take it you wish to discuss something about Neoka Marron?" Kara asked, once Menith could make out her lithe figure perched on her couch.

"Of course." He stated roughly, "He Cured the Holderkin last night." He saw Kara nod.

"He did indeed." She said simply.  Menith felt his jaw tense, and forcibly relaxed it.

"So is he still considered a threat to you?" he growled.  Kara shifted in her seat.

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Menith.  Even though it _was a Healing, the power it took to get over the blocks set up around Bryan's mind must still be taken into account."_

"Even when it is used for good?!" Menith could barely keep his voice below a shout.  Why were the Heralds becoming so dense?

_:Chosen, you are his mentor.  You have seen his mind when he Dream Walked.  You know him better then the other Heralds, and you are using the information, just as they are using theirs.  You must understand why they think the way they do, just as you must not agree with them.: Hyatee sent in a very warm, calming tone.  Menith sighed._

"My question still stands, Kara." He said in a much lower tone.

"We have no guarantee that it will always be used for good-" she began.

"When do you _ever have such a guarantee?  Even for Heralds, there is no such promise." Menith was not going to be pushed into a corner where Kara would start to make sense.  He wouldn't let her find a way to convince him that Neoka had a questionable will.  _

"Neoka is different-" she started again.

"Only because you choose to think of him that way!  Damnit-" he cut himself off, closing his eyes and taking a couple breaths, "I didn't come to argue about him, Kara.  I came to talk with you about what he has done.  I need answers."

***

Neo rolled onto his back, the white tiled wall getting increasingly boring by the second.  He shifted, trying to get comfortable and fall asleep, but it was no use.  

There was something tickling the back of his mind, something he couldn't quiet locate or decipher.  Sighing, he closed his eyes and relaxed until he was Aware of everything in the room.

Soft snoring and muffled dreams came from the Borderer a few beds away, but Neo ignored him.  No, there was nothing left in the Borderer that he could do anything about, so he went past him.

A bitterness so foul he could almost smell it sent Neo reeling back into his own head.  He clutched his mouth and nose, which seemed to burn with the sour after-taste of the thing he had discovered.  The pain melted away after a few moments, leaving Neo very confused. 

_What . . . what was that? He thought, running a hand through his hair.  Now that he was paying attention to it, the bitter "taste" in the back of his mind seemed to have gotten larger._

Neo felt his muscles twitch in bemusement.  There was no way he could sleep at all with that _thing insisting on bothering him so.  He swung his legs out of bed and got unsteadily to his feet._

A few silent moments and his legs finally stopped complaining, then he began to walk towards the door.  The bitterness wasn't far, he didn't pass more then a few rooms once he left his own before the acrimony filled the air around him, so tangible he almost felt it pressing in upon him.

He stopped right outside the door that the bitterness centered around, and slowly opened it.  Looking cautiously inside revealed little more then one occupied cot in the middle of the small room, and no Healers surrounding it.

Glad to not have to make up excuses about why he was out of bed, he stepped in.

Soft, uneven breathing met his ears.  He came closer to the person lying on the cot, all his senses perked in awareness, even the one that had been giving him so much trouble as of late.  In fact, that one was probably the most alert of all.

The bitterness that had kept him from rest throbbed almost visibly inside this child, or very small adult.  They were so entangled in the sheets, curled up in the smallest ball a human being could manage, that Neo could not see whether it was female, male, child, or otherwise.

Only one thing was for certain.  This individual had the same sickness the Borderer had the night before.  It fouled the very air around the small, slightly quivering thing, making Neo hesitate in his approach.

But . . . something about the black-bitterness was different this time.  It was affecting more then the mind.  Even with only the moon and a very low burning candle for light Neo could see the being's skin was pale as ice.

He reached out a hand to gently pull the sheets away until he could see the person's face.

He gasped sharply.  Drenched in sweat and contorted with pain was none other then the face Neo could hardly forget.  The face of his little sister.

_Impossible . . . he thought weakly; desperately searching for differences in the small girl's features, __no it's not her, look!  Her nose . . . it's longer . . . and her mouth is smaller . . ._

Reassured that this young child was not his sister he began to see a lot more characteristics that his sister did not have.

Light, curled brown hair made itself known once Neo finished pulling the sheet away.  Very unlike his own sister's straight, dark auburn locks.  And the girl's cheeks were lower down, giving her face a heart like look.

But, even so, the resemblance was enough to make Neo's head reel with memories, and he sought out the Healer's stool only a few feet away from the cot.

_She . . . she looks so much like Vannasa . . . oh gods . . ._

Memories flooded through his mind.

_It was early morning.  The sun shone through the lace curtains in Neo's room, making him groan and roll away from the light._

_"Silly!  Get up!  Its morning!" the cheery voice floated through the air like rain.  Neo groaned again._

_"Proper ladies are not brought up to be awake in the morning." He accused, burying his head in his pillow.  A bell-like laugh followed his statement._

_"I guess I'm not a proper lady then-" she began, but a severe voice from somewhere near Neo's door cut her off._

_"Vannasa Marron!  Tell me I did not __just hear you confess to your brother that you are not a lady!" it was their mother.  Both children glanced up in surprise._

_Normally their mother would never have concerned herself with her children.  That's what she considered a servant's job.  In all six years of Neo's life she had never once reprimanded him or his sister for anything they had done or gotten into.  _

_"M-mother!" Neo sat up, eyes wide in astonishment.  His usually sharp mind gave him no ways out of this situation._

_"Of course not, mother.  I was just-" Vannasa began, only to be cut off again._

_"Spare me your excuses," something was wrong.  Their usually aloof, unattached mother was angry about something other then Vannasa's avowal, "I want you dressed and ready to leave, Vannasa.  Now!"_

_Vannasa jumped at the sharp order, looking nervously towards Neo._

_"Where are you taking her?" Neo demanded.  He was protective of his little sister.  He didn't like seeing her frightened and he had never formed any real attachment to this woman who was so angry.  He didn't feel guilty at being brash with her, even though she was his mother._

_"That is not any of your business, Neoka!  Come, Vannasa!" she ordered again.  Vannasa hesitated once more.  Neo struggled out of bed when their mother approached threateningly._

_"Where are you taking her?!" he demanded again.  Their mother halted a few feet away, surprised at the hostility in her son's eyes.  She quickly recovered though, and the ice in her eyes returned._

_"Away from here.  Don't worry, little Lord," she continued scathingly, "you get to remain here with your father." And, before Neo could react, their mother grabbed Vannasa's wrist and dragged her out of his room._

_"Neo!" Vannasa cried out.  She was only four, but she knew that something was wrong.  She didn't understand why her mother was acting the way she was, but she knew that it wasn't going to be good when she found out.  So, she logically turned to the one person that had always been there for her, Neo._

_Neo followed them immediately, grabbing a dark blue robe hastily and running after them.  This was something between his mother and father, he knew without knowing how he knew, they had never been more then civil to each other, but they had never__ dragged Neo or Vannasa into their arguments before._

_This time was serious.  _

_Neo flew through his home at speeds he had never reached in all the games he and his sister had played.  But somehow his mother reached the front door before he did._

_His father was arguing heatedly with her._

_"Who is he, Chrystina?!" he was demanding of his mother.  Vannasa's wrist was still in their mother's tight grasp, though she was desperately pulling at it.  Servants cleverly stayed out of sight, though Neo knew they were hovering as close as they possibly could._

_"He is a better man then you!" his mother exploded, pulling Vannasa closer to her roughly, "He loves me!  And I love him!" Neo did not care who his mother loved, or who loved her.  He cared only about his sister; it was the only thing that mattered at that moment._

_"Foolish woman!" his father roared, making Vannasa squeak in fear, "Where do you think you're taking my daughter?" his mother did not cower at his father's tone, but instead steeled herself._

_"What makes you think she is yours?" she yelled right back at him, and then pointed to Neo, "He is yours!  And be happy with that!  I will bare you no more children!  I am going to Hardorn, and Vannasa will come with me, because she does not belong here, with you!  She is not your child!" Neo's heart jumped to his throat as his sister was dragged towards the door._

_"No!" he yelled, scrambling desperately towards her.  He was caught and held by his father's strong hands._

_"Whore!" his father accused, keeping a tight hold on Neo, even when his useless struggles doubled in effort, "Get out of my sight!"_

_His mother almost vanished out the door the moment his father had said those words, leaving Neo hanging disbelievingly against his fathers hold._

_"V-Vannasa . . ." his voice was weak with sorrow and disbelief.  His father released him, and he stumbled a few steps forward, then dropped to his knees, staring at the open door._

_"Get up boy," his fathers cold words hit him like ice water, "that is no way for a Noble to act."_

_Neo's quivering of despair gave way to shakes of rage._

_"You- you're the reason Vannasa is gone!" he accused, clenching his fists, "You bastard!  Bring her back!" he whirled around and advanced towards his father._

_A very solid slap to his cheek left him stunned and on the floor once more._

_"Never speak that way to me again . . ." his father looked as though he could have spit in disgust.  Instead, he turned around and called for one of the servants, "See that Neoka is packed in the morning." He ordered harshly.  The man did not linger._

_"Are you sending me away too?" Neo asked bitterly, rubbing his cheek sorely._

_"You are going to the Palace, to learn how a true__ Noble acts." His father informed him, "And once you learn that, I expect you to return.  Not before, boy." _

_And then Neo was alone, in every aspect of the word.  He went to the Palace and became a Blue, and he had not returned home, even when he had finished his required studies and completely understood how a Noble was supposed to act._

And for almost ten years there hadn't been a day that Neo hadn't thought of Vannasa, in Hardorn, wondering if she still remembered her older brother.

Neo returned to the small room and the sickened girl slowly, and, to his surprise, he felt tears form in his eyes.

He hadn't cried since the day Vannasa had left him, and as the feeling returned to him, he couldn't stop it.

He wept bitterly as he watched the girl that looked so much like his sister cringe in pain, and when she actually groaned aloud, he broke out of his stupor, and _pushed as hard as he could at the solid, foreign malevolence embedded in the child's head._

It gave way under Neo's desperation, crumbled to dust under the power he unleashed upon it.

Neo wanted more.  He wanted to destroy, he wanted to rage until there was no pain in the girl's or anyone's head, he wanted to obliterate the bitter sickness until no one even remembered there had been such a thing.  And then he wanted to annihilate whatever the sickness had come from, even if it came from the strickens' own hearts, as some sicknesses do.

He didn't know how long he stayed beside the girl, weeping and Healing and raging about the unfairness of it all.  He only knew that when he had no power left, the girl was Healed fully, and the candle had burnt itself out, and there were a group of Healers watching him.  And then he knew no more, collapsing beside the girl as if he had no muscles to speak of.

***

Healer Y'von watched in fascinated horror as the young Trainee she had been assigned to cleared the patient's mind in one powerful wave that seemed to never end.

She had been called to the patient's room when another Healer had come across Neoka Healing.  He had been amazed by the boy's power, and had stood dumbfounded for more then a candlemark, just staring and gaping, until he gathered his senses and ran to find her and others.

Suddenly, the wave broke, leaving all with a sense of exhaustion.  Neoka turned his head with what seemed like a huge effort, and blinked at the group that had gathered.

Before dropping out of the stool, completely unconscious.

Y'von was the first to recover, and rushed to his side, pulling him up into her arms and leaving the room and the patient to the other Healers.

She reached Neoka's room in a matter of moments, carefully situation Neoka into his bed.

She couldn't supply him with energy, but she could ease the suffering he would be in once he woke up with a Reaction Headache.  She wasted no time in doing so, muting the pain he was already feeling so he would sleep longer.

When she had finished the sun was just rising, and the patients in the same room were beginning to wake up.  Neo would not wake up for a few hours, and Y'von needed to talk with the Heralds about their charge.

One thing she had known about Heralds ever since she had begun to Heal was that their Companions were a _huge help when they were Healing.  Well, normally.  _

_What had Neoka's Companions been thinking, letting that boy get up and Heal until he passed out?_

Perhaps Menith or maybe Kara knew where she could find Neoka's Companion.  Y'von wanted to straighten things out for him or her; she wanted to make sure this would never happen again.

***

"He did _what?!" it was the first time Y'von had ever seen Kara loose the calmness she always radiated.  It was almost scary._

"He Healed the young girl brought in this morning." She repeated patiently.  Kara's eyes were wide with some emotion, whether it was disbelief or surprise, Y'von would never know.  Kara remained silent, obviously unable to think of anything to say.  Y'von picked up where she had left off.

"I wanted to talk to his Companion about him." She said casually.  Kara looked up sharply at her.

"Why would you want to do that?" Y'von crossed her arms stubbornly in her seat across Kara's desk.

"He was _supposed to be resting.  He has to regain his strength, not overexert himself every chance he gets.  I want to make sure his Companion can keep him in bed next time he gets the urge to wander about." It seemed a simple enough request-or rather, demand- to her, but Kara didn't think so._

"I'm afraid that's impossible." She said smoothly, and left it at that.  Y'von would not let it go so easily.

"Why?" she was fierce when it came to her patients, she had no time to spend chasing them down when they decided to do some Healing.

It took only a moment before Kara answered, but it was an awkward silence none-the-less.

"They are newly bonded.  His Companion did not know Neoka was Healing.  I'm sure if he _had known, he would have put a stop to it." Kara explained.  Y'von was not satisfied._

"Perhaps if Neoka and his Companion spent some more time together, then?  That can be arranged, but I want to supervise him when he's outside, and I still want to make _sure his Companion knows I will not tolerate him spending all of his energy like this." She got up, happy with the rules she had set._

"Healer Y'von," Kara said sternly when Y'von made to leave, "I-"

"Is there a problem with what I have just proposed?  Surely, neither Neoka nor his Companion has more pressing matters at hand?" she raised a delicate eyebrow when Kara seemed at a loss for words, "I'll bring him to Companion's Field when he wakes and has enough strength." She said, leaving the room.

Kara cursed softly, then sighed.  Jhaspar had to know of this new development.  Closing her eyes, she sought him out.

_:Jhaspar, I hope you're not too busy.: she greeted him with a mental smile._

_:Nothing I cant take care of later, if this has anything to do with Neoka.: he replied, knowing instantly who was contacting him._

_:I'm afraid it does have to do with him.  He has Healed again.: shock met her words, but she continued before the questions could start, __:And his Healer is none too pleased about him spending so much energy.  She's gotten it into her head that his Companion was to blame, letting him leave his bed, and she wants to have them bond until she needn't worry about him loosing sleep.: she sighed aloud._

_:This is . . . very interesting.: Jhaspar replied, then seemed to think about what he had just Heard silently.  Kara waited._

_:Carogan says he can take care of getting a Companion to play the part, but they wont be able to keep Neoka in his bed.  I'll talk to Menith about strengthening his Shields, so he won't be able to sense new patients, thereby not waking up the next morning and giving everyone a Reaction Headache.  I was going to talk with Menith anyway.: Kara nodded thoughtfully, then severed the connection, leaving Jhaspar to his duty._

She had things to think upon, before everything got out of control.  She chewed on her bottom lip gently; _I just hope everything is still under__ control . . ._

***

Jhaspar was completely still beside the King in one of the many Council meetings of late.  The King didn't need his help with this meeting, so he allowed his mind to wander, and immediately came to the information Kara had just sent him.

_This damn sickness . . . if I could just find out where__ and how__ . . . he brooded silently._

_:I've been talking with Hyatee, __Chosen__, and he has some interesting information on those subjects.: Carogan broke in unexpectedly.  Jhaspar kept his sigh of relief inside his mouth . . . but just barely._

_:Thank the gods!  Do you agree with it?: he settled back into his chair, relaxing for the first time that day._

_:You are jumping ahead of yourself.  I will tell you what the information is, and then, perhaps, if I agree with it or not.: Carogan scolded softly.  Jhaspar frowned._

_:Suit yourself.: he said shortly, eagerly awaiting an explanation._

_:I will.  Hyatee's Chosen, Menith, had a talk with Neoka's Healer, Y'von, about the sickness not too long ago.  It seemed she had a theory.  A very interesting one.: he paused, probably to bait Jhaspar into letting out a sound of frustration.  Jhaspar did not loose his patience, and Carogan continued, __:She thinks the sickness is Mage made, and also that the Mage responsible is on Hardorn's side of the border, as that is closest to where the stricken are originating.:_

_:A Mage made sickness?  That affects the mind?: Jhaspar was almost in a state of shock, not so much about the Mage, but about the power it took to infect someone's mind the way he-or she-had._

_:It is not as outlandish as it may seem.  After all, we have a child__ who could probably inflict the same amount of damage.  Perhaps more.: Jhaspar released a breath he had not known he was holding very slowly._

_:I . . . I could try Searching over the Border . . . but if I cant even go over the Shields this Mage as erected around his victims, I doubt I could get past their own.: his mind scrambled for an answer, but Carogan provided him with one instantly._

_:You are not paying attention, __Chosen__.  I said, 'we have a child who could probably inflict the same amount of damage'.  We can use his strength to overcome any obstacles in our path.  He has gotten over the barriers you could not.  We can use him to see what is causing all of this . . . and perhaps do something about it.: Jhaspar blinked._

_:And . . . this does not feel to you like . . . like we are using the boy unfairly?: because for some reason, that was what Jhaspar felt._

_:You and Menith will have to supervise him, of course.  Take him as far as you can, and be prepared to pull him back as well.  Ask him if he would help, Jhaspar.  You might be surprised at the answer.: Carogan continued, ignoring Jhaspar's question.  Jhaspar sighed, but nodded._

_:Alright.  Now, about all this Companion business . . .: he began._

_:Don't worry about that, Heart-brother.  Leave the Companions to the Companions.: Carogan replied, and then seemed to send his concentration elsewhere._

Jhaspar let him go, returning to the Council Meeting.

_I should speak with Neoka first . . . get his consent, and then try to recruit Menith to the idea . . . I wonder which will be harder . . ._

***

Neo woke groggily, things hazing into view very slowly.

"Why did you Heal that girl?" it was the very first thing that met his ears, and it was as faze sounding as everything else.

"What?" he asked, desperately trying to regain his usual sharpness.

"Just this morning, you Healed a girl, a few rooms away.  Why?" it wasn't a voice he remembered.  It was female, and didn't seem friendly at all.

"She was hurt." He said, dragging himself up and focusing his eyes on the woman asking him the questions.  He didn't recognize her, but from her Whites, knew her to be a Herald.  She had very graceful red hair, and equally graceful features.  Her voice, however unfriendly, was still pleasant to listen to.  Unfortunately, he _was a Blue, and trusting Heralds did not come easy.  He did not expand on his explanation._

"Is that your only reason?" she sounded suspicious.  Neo narrowed his eyes.  So Healing someone was against their better nature, was it?

"Why are you so interested, Herald?" he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

"Because if you go around doing this all the time, your Reaction Headaches are only going to get worse.  And if you don't want to end up Healing the whole Collegium as a result, I suggest you cease at once and leave the Healing to the Healers." She scorned.

Neo kept silent.  It wasn't in his nature to just go explain everything to everyone.  Let them think what they want, and meanwhile, he could go around doing what he was just told not to, for his own reasons.

She took his silence as an agreement, and stood.

"Herald Menith is waiting for you.  I briefed him on the situation earlier, and he will explain everything to you." She left without another word.  Neo blinked.

_Situation?  How is Healing someone considered a situation, the way she says it?  Like it's a bad thing?  Why does no one think I'm actually Healing?_

Thousands of questions, and only one answer came to mind.

_Because you are a Blue._

***

Menith tried to keep from glaring at Kara as she left Neoka's room.  He knew full well what she had been saying to the poor boy, but he couldn't do a thing about it.

She outranked him, and if he "got out of hand", she wouldn't hesitate to use that to her advantage.

She glanced at him once, but turned on her heel and walked down the hall before either had a chance to say anything.  Menith relaxed his tensed jaw, and entered the room.

Neo sat straight up against his pillows, staring at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing at the moment.

Menith sat beside him silently, not knowing how he was going to start a conversation with Neoka.  Fortunately, Neoka started one without his help.

"Did I do something wrong, Herald Menith?" he asked coolly, still staring at the ceiling.  Menith sighed.

"No." he replied with a small shake of his head.

"Then why does everyone act as if I did?" it was too calm a tone for the question, making Menith wary.

"Things are getting complicated.  They aren't angry at you Healing, quiet the opposite . . . they're only like this because . . . because you _can Heal." He explained.  Neoka lowered his gaze until it was level with the Herald's._

"Because I can?  What's so special about that?" there, finally his calm façade had a crack in it.  Neoka was afraid, at best, angry at worst.  Menith tried to keep his own frustration out of his voice, to calm either feeling.

"Because no one else can-"

"Which is precisely the reason I'm here." Came a voice next to the door.  Both Herald and Blue turned to stare at the newcomer.

"Neoka, this is King's Own Herald Jhaspar," Menith introduced with what could have been a growl, had it been any lower, "Herald Jhaspar, this is Neoka Marron."

***

Carogan stopped listening to Jhaspar's thoughts the minute his hooves reached Companions Field.  He needed to concentrate on his part of the problem, getting an un-partnered Companion to act the part of a partnered Companion.

His sapphire gaze swept the Field, falling on a grazing Companion near the fence.  He trotted over with a wordless greeting.

The Companion lifted his head in surprise at his new guest, and Carogan knew who it was immediately.

Amaro, the fastest Companion the Field had turned out yet.  And un-partnered as well.

_Perfect._

Carogan stopped just in front of Amaro, who drew himself up.

_:To what do I owe this pleasure, Grove-born?: he greeted respectively.  Carogan shook his head._

_:None of this 'Grove-born', if you please, Amaro.  I'm just Carogan.: he responded.  Amaro nodded his head._

_:Is there something you need from me?  Or is this just pleasure conversation?: he wasn't adverse to either, but was curious as to why the Grove-born would want to talk with him._

_:In fact, there is a favor I need, from an un-partnered Companion.: Amaro shifted, relaxing his back hoof in a normal pose._

_:A favor?: this had to be a first.  Carogan nodded._

_:Yes.  I need you to act the part of a partnered Companion to a Healing boy.: Amaro blinked in surprise._

_:Act the part of a-: he snorted in amusement, __:You jest, surely.: _

_:I'm afraid not.  There's a very powerful child in the Healers Collegium at this moment, and we are trying to pass him off as a Trainee, so that the questions about his power are minimal, and we can concentrate on other things.: Amaro blinked once more._

_:What do you need a Companion for?: he asked._

_:The boy's been getting up at night to Heal virus patients coming in from the Border.  His Healer is quiet flustered about this, and wants the boy to bond more with his Companion, so that she wont have to worry about him loosing whatever strength he has managed to recover.: Carogan explained briefly.  Amaro's luxurious tale twitched nervously._

_:What would all this entitle?  What would I have to do?: he asked, trying to keep from moving._

_:Just be with the boy until the Healer deems everything to her satisfaction.: Carogan replied, nipping at an itch on his back leg ungracefully.  Amaro would have been amused at the legendary Grove-born in this pose, had the situation not been as puzzling._

_:And what if I must leave to Choose while all this is happening?: he pointed out.  Carogan raised his head._

_:I'm sure whomever you Choose would understand if you had to pose for a while.  After all, you do it so well.: Carogan teased lightly.  Amaro would have blushed, had he been capable of it.  He was indeed the fastest Companion in the Field, and knew it too.  He also thought he was the better looking as well, but usually kept this to himself._

_:So, all I have to do is play-bond with the child, until the Healer is satisfied?: he asked, neatly ignoring Carogan's comment._

_:That's it.  Will you do it?: he asked.  Amaro snorted and lowered his head to lightly nibble on a tuft of grass._

_:Why not?  I've got nothing better to do.  No Companion will race with me, and I've already explored the Field twice over.  This might be fun.: for all the carelessness in his tone, Amaro was very excited.  Acting like he had a Chosen was close enough to having one, wasn't it?_

Carogan said his thanks kindly, and whirled away to destinations unknown.  Amaro watched him go for a silent moment, then returned to his grazing.

_I wonder what this boy will be like . . ._

Authors note: fourteen pages worth . . . geez I hope I didn't screw anything up!  Anyway, now that Amaro's agreed to the terms, everything's set, right?  Wrong!  Mua ha!  I still have to get Neo to agree, _and I still have him scheduled to Scry over the Border.  Wonder what he'll find over there . . . leave a review with your guess!  This'll be fun!_


	4. A fight to the death or something close ...

Authors note: I _beg _you to PLEASE read the bio on my profile page.  It explains all about my "missing" fics, and this one.  Also, this chapter is . . . well, I don't know . . . there's something about it that makes it different from the rest . . . not in a good way.  I don't think I much like this chapter . . . *sigh*

Neo stared at the Kings Own in complete disbelief, his dark eyes sharper than normal with surprise.  He had met the Herald only once before, and that time was no more pleasant then this instance was.

_Neo trudged down the corridor, sending brief glares to the Guards that flanked him on both sides._

_Traipsing him about like some sort of criminal . . . surely they had better things to do!_

_'_A criminal is just what they think you are.  Why shouldn't they be squishing me in between them?  If I were one of them, I'd do the same thing._' An annoying voice said in the back of his mind.  Neo turned to vent his anger on it._

_'_If I were one of them I'd have asked for the truth, and not listen to that worthless know-nothing of a Weapons Master!_' he spit out, full of bitterness.  The voice remained silent, and Neo barely kept a grunt of relief from escaping his throat._

_'_Besides,_' he added, just noticing how stiff he had become, and trying to relax for whatever punishment they dealt out to him, 'they have to listen to me sooner or later, and when they do I'll give them such an earful they'd wished they had been helping me teach that bastard a lesson . . .__'_

_A very tiny grin crept into his features.  He had gotten a few good hits in, before the Weapons Master had come to break them apart.  The grin faded when he remembered what his opponent had done right after they'd broken apart . . ._

"Oh thank the gods!  Sir, he was going to _kill_ me!  I tried to get away from him, but he wouldn't have it!" the young Blue was sprawled on the floor, panting harshly.  Neo glared daggers at him from where he hung by the grip the Weapons Master had on the scruff of his neck.

The Weapons Master was a huge, burley man, with hands as big as Neo's head.  Neo did not want to cross him, but the little bastard lying on the ground deserved nothing but a sound beating.

"Oh I'll kill him alright!" he bit out angrily, struggling against the Weapons Master's hold.  The man shook him until he was dazed, and then picked up the other Blue in a like whys manner.  

"You'll both speak truth, and you'll both speak all of it.  Now." His voice hadn't been raised, but it carried with it something that made the boys quiver.

"The truth is-" but before Neo could get his story out-

"The truth is he's had it in for me, sir!  Ever since I got here!  I never did anything to him, sir, not a thing-" but Neo had had enough.

"You lying piece of-" again he was cut off.

"Never mind, tell me why he was at your throat." The Weapons Master shook Neo in front of the other Blue, whose pale blue eyes widened at the chance to explain himself.

"Yes, sir!  As I was saying, he's had it in for me, ever since I set foot in the Collegium.  He's jealous, sir.  I talked to the Lady he was courting, and she never wanted his attention afterwards.  He blamed it all on me-" 

"That's I damn lie, and you know it!" Neo yelled, making a grab for the boy again.  The hand on his neck pulled him away before he could have the satisfaction of strangling him.

"I never courted anyone!  And _he's_ the one that started all this!  He . . . he . . ." Neo trailed off, not wanting anyone to know how sensitive he was on the topic of his family. 

The boy had been taunting him, being from a Noble family that had heard about what happened to Neo and his relatives.  He used the information at first to try and blackmail Neo into doing stuff, but when Neo held his ground and did not bait, he became frustrated.

Now all he did was taunt Neo in the halls or during classes.  And he had finally gone too far.

The boy could call Neo whatever he liked and Neo would not flinch.  Hell, he could even call Neo's father something worse then what he really was, and Neo would probably join him.

But this time was different.  The bastard had slandered his sister until Neo was aching to teach him a lesson.  He had begun in the morning, when Neo had emerged from his room, and hadn't stopped since.

When Neo had been paired up with him during weapons practice he hadn't been able to hold back.

"He what, boy?" the Weapons Master's voice brought Neo back to the present.  Neo scowled, stubbornly refusing to reveal a weakness.  The Weapons Master scowled right back, finally lowering Neo to the ground, "You'll report to Kings Own Herald Jhaspar, Neoka.  Now." Neo quickly wiped the outraged expression off his face, and stalked towards the door.

"Sir, don't you think such a dangerous youth should be watched?" the bastard's voice hit Neo's ears like a curse.  He whirled around and narrowed his eyes.

Before he could even think about what he'd like to do to the boy, two hands materialized on his arm, and he was literally dragged out of the practice arena.

_So here he was, being 'escorted' to the King's Own, all because a spoiled Noble had gotten on his nerves.  The Guards moved as if to fence him into an open door, but Neo wouldn't allow them the satisfaction._

_He stepped into the room, made a dismissing motion with his hand, and closed the door behind him.  A tall man was sitting calmly behind a desk, looking as if he had been expecting him._

_'_No doubt that witch-power they have, communicating with each other silently._' He thought, stepping forward until he was a comfortable distance away.  Not too close, and not too far.  He waited for the King's Own to start the conversation._

_"You must be Neoka." He said, smiling.  Neo did not return it._

_"Yes, sir." He responded, happy that his voice gave away nothing in tone._

_"Weapons Master Troa sent you to me.  Normally such cases would be handled by the Dean, but he has . . . a few more important things to take care of at the moment." He smiled once again, getting up from his seat._

_Neo did not say anything, and quietly clasped his hands behind his back.  The King's Own studied him a while longer._

_"I take it you know why you were sent here?" such condescending questions . . . Neo did not want to reveal the truth to this man.  He scowled inwardly, and sharply nodded._

_The King's Own frowned a little, then came closer.  Neo's shoulders stiffened defensively._

_"I . . . attacked another Blue . . . sir." He said reluctantly, making eye contact with the Herald and not looking away.  Herald Jhaspar continued to watch him with piercing eyes._

_"Troa told me that you had not said why you did any such thing.  Would you tell me?" Neo held back the sharp refusal that lingered on the tip of his tongue, and worked a polite one out instead._

_"I'm afraid they were personal matters . . . sir." He finally managed, trying to smooth his shoulders so they wouldn't give anything away.  The King's Own sighed, returning to his desk._

_"You may go." He dismissed.  Neo kept the surprised relief from his face, and turned to exit the room._

_Had he been let off with no punishment?  Well, he _was _a Noble's son.  Perhaps that did__ have some perks . . . _

Neo snapped back to the Healer's Wing, watching the King's Own with wary eyes.

"We've met before, if I recall correctly." The Herald said as he approached, stopping beside Herald Menith.  Neo clenched his jaw tightly, ignoring the throbbing in his head the action caused.

He was not fully Healed from his Reaction Headache, and being around this man was not helping.  However, this was all something he would much rather _not give away._

"Good day, Herald." Neo greeted quietly, steeling his eyes and reinforcing Menith's Shields so nothing of what was going on in his head leaked out.  Both Heralds looked at him quizzically, but, thankfully, neither said anything.  

"Jhaspar," if Menith's voice was any lower, it would have been a growl, "to what do we owe this pleasure?"

Jhaspar merely smiled and approached both of them.

"It seems this little guise we're pulling around you, Neoka, has its faults." Neo would have snorted, but remained silently observing the Kings Own.

_Of _course _pretending to be a Gray has its faults!  One, no white horse.  Two, no idiotic hero impulses coming from this _boy.  And three, I've got Blue written all over me . . . not to mention any one who knows me will see that.__

"Just what kind of 'faults'?" Menith asked, feeling the brooding thoughts swirling beneath the Shields he had around Neoka.  He couldn't read them, Neo's own reinforcements wouldn't allow for that, but he could feel their depressing presence.

"Healer Y'von insists upon having Neoka's Companion bond with the boy until she doesn't have to worry about him getting up and wandering around the Collegium at night." Neo could not hold back the soft snort at those words.

_That's a nice way of putting it . . ._

Menith frowned, "And just how do you expect to pull that little trick off?"

"Easily," Jhaspar responded, "Carogan has already found a Companion to play the part.  Think you can make it to the Field, Neoka?" he asked, not unkindly.

Neo, however, found the question quite condescending.

"Yes." He replied, swinging his legs out of his bed.  The loose white shirt fell to mid-thigh and the slack bleached breeches underneath it kept him from looking as thin as he really was.

_Which is, _he thought to himself, looking down at his wrist, _thinner then usual._

Which was only to be expected, since he hadn't eaten for quite some time.

"I don't think-" Menith began, seeing the thinness in Neo's wrist as well.  

"It is completely necessary, Herald Menith." Jhaspar cut him off, coming around to the Neo's side, "And once we get down there, we have more to discuss."

Neo deliberately ignored the Own's offered arm, getting to his feet and trying to keep the wobbling to a minimum.  The last thing he wanted right then was to look weak.

Menith followed Jhaspar at Neo's side as they walked to the Field.  He didn't look happy at all.  In fact, Neo thought he heard the Herald mumbling obscenities, and glaring at the King's Own's back.

The walk wasn't as long as Neo had secretly feared, knowing that his legs wouldn't carry him any respectable distance.

Once they reached the fence bordering the Field, two Companions seemingly materialized at their side.  One, larger and with a sense of etherealness about him, approached the Own.

The Herald and Companion conversed silently, before the Own turned to talk with Neo and Menith.

"This Companion," he said, gesturing with his hand at the lean, curious Companion a few feet away, "is called Amaro.  He's agreed to play Companion with Neoka until we can sort out a few things."

Unexpectedly, the Own laid a hand on Neo's shoulder, and gently pushed him towards the Companion.  Both beings had no idea what to do, until . . .

"Just take a seat, Neoka." Jhaspar insisted.

_:Lie down, Amaro.: _Carogan said at the same time.  Both boy and Companion, after a moment's hesitation, went to the ground . . .

And ended up touching, with Amaro curling around Neo's back.  The perfect picture of Companion and newly Chosen.

Except for the look of extreme unease around both of them.

***

Amaro followed the Grove Born towards the small cluster of people with a curious but open mind.  Once they got close enough to make out details, Amaro saw the boy for the first time.

He was thin, almost dangerously so, and there was a pained look deep in his eyes, as though something was cutting him, and could not be stopped.  Nothing else gave the same impression though.  He stood firmly and proudly, his stature demanding recognition of the fact that he was a noble.  His skin color, if a little pale, still had the shine of someone well cared for.     

The King's Own was the first to see and recognize them, and Carogan explained who he had brought as they finished their approach.

Amaro watched the boy with growing interest.  Something . . . was tugging at the back of his mind . . . but he couldn't make out just what it was.  The heart beating in his head grew in volume, but only for a moment.  Once he made eye contact with the boy, who quickly looked away, the beating went back to the normal faint throbbing.

_:May I introduce Neoka, you're Chosen . . . for the time being.: _Carogan said suddenly.  Amaro blinked as the King's Own gently pushed Neoka forward, and the stumbling boy could only regain his balance once he was almost touching Amaro's side.

_:Lie down, Amaro.: _Carogan ordered unexpectedly.  Amaro did as he was told, and ended up curling around Neoka, who had been ordered to sit.

The familiar throbbing lessoned, until Amaro could barely make it out amongst his own heart beat.  He searched for it, tried to bring it back to the front of his mind, but it would not grow.

Just what was this child, if he could drown out a Call?  Amaro shifted nervously, but did not pull away.  It was only a youngling, and it was only for a short time.

***

Neo could not have been in a more uncomfortable position.

Not that the Companion wasn't comfortable.  In fact, Neo was quite warm and relaxed against the Companion's stomach.  It was only the odd waves of anxiety and trepidation that seeped trough the Shields, from Amaro, that made Neo want to get up and leave.

Neo felt the Companion shift into a more unperturbed pose, tucking his long legs underneath his slim belly.  He took a breath, before leaning into the Companion, and looking up at the two Heralds.

"How long must we stay like this?" Neo asked coldly, trying to convey the fact that this was _not_ a dream come true for him, though it might be for others.  Jhaspar sighed.

"A couple candlemarks a day, I'm afraid.  But, to keep you occupied while you do this, Menith and I will oversee your Gift lessons."

Menith whipped his head around to stare at the Own.

"I was not informed of this!  Since when are you a teacher?  Don't you have more important things to attend to?" he demanded.  Neo was in full agreement.  Jhaspar merely sighed again.

"Once I am allowed to explain myself, I'm sure you will be of the same mind that not much is 'more important', Herald Menith."

Menith looked as if he would say more, but kept his mouth closed.  Neo looked back and forth between the men.  Inexplicably, he felt a sort of betrayal well up inside him.  He had thought Menith to be different from the other Heralds.  Intelligent, not so annoyingly dauntless, surely the Herald would see that difference in himself and not bow down to one of his own rank!

But, no . . . Neo took one last searching look of Herald Menith, before realizing that _that _was what Menith was.

A Herald.

Neo had expected too much from him.

"I've no objection to his added presence, Herald." He said, his voice like brittle glass.

Menith glanced at him quickly, surprise evident in his eyes.  Jhaspar took the silent moment as consent from the Herald himself.

"Then everything's settled." He said, smiling at both of them.  Neither smiled back.

***

By the time Jhaspar explained himself, all three individuals were on the ground.  Jhaspar's Companion had sauntered off the moment he wasn't needed, leaving the King's Own to fend for himself.

"So," he wound up, looking at Neo with hope, "the only chance of finding out what's going _on_ over there, is you, Neoka."

Neo blinked at the Own.

"Let me get this straight . . ." he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned farther into Amaro's stomach.  The Companion didn't seem to mind, "you can't get over the Shields around Hardorn.  You want me to do it because you think someone over there is causing a sickness . . . what makes you think _I_ can do it?" he asked, looking up at the Own.

"The Shields are too powerful for me," Jhaspar explained, "it would take someone of equal or greater strength to overcome them.  And the only one in the Collegium that fits that description is you."

Menith, who had been strangely silent throughout the entire thing, spoke up.

"He isn't ready," he said gruffly, "he needs more lessons before he can Scry safely."

"Lessons take time," Jhaspar said, looking at the Herald, "time we don't have.  We can guide him as far as the border, by then he should have the feel of it."

"Didn't you hear me?" Menith asked angrily, "He's not ready!  He's a boy, for pity's sake!  You can't expect this from him!" his eyes flashed dangerously, but Jhaspar did not look intimidated.  He glared back.

"He has the power, and therefore the responsibility!" the Own shot back, "I expect that from everyone!" 

Neo felt the barely controlled hostility boil near the surface in both Heralds' minds.  He didn't like it, but he agreed with the Own.  If no Herald could do anything, they would turn to someone who could.  Even if that person wasn't one of their own. 

"I'll do it." He said, before their argument could escalate, "I'll Scry over the border."

Both Heralds looked at him.  He felt the Companion swivel his head around, but couldn't bring himself to meet those blue eyes.

"Neoka . . ." Menith began.

"You just have to show me how, Herald." He continued, dropping his gaze to the ground.  Was he making a mistake?  Why did he feel . . . an obligation to do something?

_Think about that later . . . gods, I just _know_ this is gona hurt._

***

Menith slipped into the familiar trance state, meshing with Jhaspar none-too-gently at the same time.  He wouldn't make the Border by himself, but with Jhaspar and Neoka it wouldn't be a problem . . . that didn't mean he had to be pleasant about it though. 

Together, they drew the boy into the web, and Menith was surprised to find the boy's aura intermingle perfectly with both of theirs.  He felt a smug grin tug at the corners of his mouth, but quickly concentrated on following Jhaspar to the Border.

_That should make them think twice about all that "cruel" drivel.  No one with a completely heartless bone in their body could mesh so easily with others._

Jhaspar led the way, gliding over Valdemar and leading the two of them easily.  In his mind vision, Menith could make out presences, Valdemar's people.  Each had their own signature, their own taste, and together they made up the wonderful feeling of his kingdom.

It was a lovely thing to be aware of, and he knew Jhaspar was feeling the same thing.  Looking back, he could even See Neoka savoring the feel of so many, when he didn't have to hear every one of them.

They reached the Border much too quickly for Menith's tastes.  Jhaspar stopped, and the others drew up alongside him.

_:This is the Border, Neoka.  Beyond here, neither I nor Menith can help you.  Can you Scry on your own?: _Jhaspar asked.

_:I told you all you had to do was show me.  I know how to do it.: _Neoka unexpectedly answered.  Menith had thought that the boy would at least have a little trouble forming and directing thoughts at other minds, but it seemed he was wrong.

Without another word, Neoka slipped past them, and just as easily, slipped through the barrier.

Both Herald's Felt the Blue leave, rather then saw him.  His power was no longer a part of their web.

_:Still having doubts, King's Herald?: _Menith asked, a little scornfully.  Jhaspar's Voice tinged a sad blue.

_:I never doubted he could go through the Shields, Menith.  Not after I met him.: _Menith allowed them to stay in silence, waiting for the return of Neoka.

***

Neo didn't have any trouble passing the Border.  He had Felt a light pressure, as if some frail, old fence was trying to keep him out, but he pushed through it easily.

It didn't break, surprisingly, it merely formed around him.  What _did break was his connection with the two Heralds._

He could no longer sense where he had left both.  He didn't dwell upon it though, he had set out to uncover who was making the sickness, and, if he could, stop it.

He glided through Hardorn's minds, and something tickled the back of his mind.  Pausing, he searched the feeling out.

The presence of people in Hardorn wasn't much different then in Valdemar, except for that odd tinge of blackness, aggravating his senses.

Carefully, he Searched the closest mind for some clues.  Thoughts, unbarred and not his own, flooded over him.

_The Shields!  Menith's Shields!  They broke when I left him! _

Hastily, he slammed up his own walls.  They were weak, but they worked.  The flood slowed to a trickle.  Taking a deep mental breath, Neo once again Searched the mind closest to him.

Simple, farming thoughts in Hardornian was all he could make out.  Perhaps he was imagining the blackness this time?

Before he had time to dwell on it, the obscure black returned, full force.  He Felt it twist around the farmer's head like a coiled snake, fangs bared and poison dripping from its forked tongue.  It was painful to watch, and twice as painful to Feel, and Neo dealt with both.

He recognized this pain.  It was what he had sworn to destroy, the night he had Healed the girl.  Anger welled up inside him, burning away any restraints he might have placed on himself, had he time to think upon it, whilst it burned away at the darkness as well.

The sickening black power recoiled, but did not flee.  Neo increased his effort, violently lashing out with everything he had left.

The sickness he had dealt with at the Collegium had been a mere shadow of what it was now.  It twisted and writhed under Neo's attacks, avoiding the power by simply forming around him when he struck at it.  Neo, frustrated, doubled the energy behind his assaults, until both the serpentine blackness and he himself were blinded by it.

His strikes grew desperate, and then slowly became less powerful.  He withdrew what energy he had left, mentally staring at what he had caused.

The serpentine shadow was gone, leaving Neo alone.

No, not alone.  Neo frowned, he should be inside a Hardorn farmer's mind . . . but he wasn't.  He paused, Looking closely at his Surroundings.

_Gods!_

He _was_ inside the farmers mind . . . what was left of it anyway.    

Authors note: Hope no one's confused!  I tried writing action . . . not sure if I did a decent job of it though . . .


	5. Gray skies

Authors note: Don't own Valdemar.  Never will.  Too poor to even dream of it . . . s'why I write fan fiction.

The power Neo had unleashed had not chosen its victims carefully.  It had annihilated everything it could get its insatiable hands on.

Neo thought he was going to be sick.  Indeed, he was sure his body was pale and trembling with shock and disgust, even if he himself wasn't occupying it at the moment.

The man wasn't dead . . . but he wasn't alive either.  Neo had completely obliterated any shred of consciousness in the man's mind.  It was now a bleeding mass of useless muscle.  Wild thoughts of using his power once more, to Heal the man, to bring back the innocent bystander killed by the war of power, flickered weakly through his mind.  But as he was gathering any and all energy he could find, that hadn't already been used up by the attack; Neo knew it was no use.  Even if he had the strength, he wouldn't have been able to Heal any of the damage.

The mind was cut to ribbons, and if the body still worked, it worked without its partner.  The barest traces of instinct remained, allowing the lungs and heart to continue their work, but they would not last long.  Things meant for conscious control, things like eating, walking, _living, could never be resurrected.  Not after what Neo had done. _

He would have brought a hand to cover his mouth, if he had had either.  Instead, he could only "stand and watch" as the farmer's brain completely shut down, leaving the man an empty shell, no better then a war-torn carcass.

_See, _an unfamiliar voice hissed in his "ear", _see what you have done, Neoka Marron?  You have killed him.  You have killed a man._

Neo shook with disbelief.

_No . . . _he whispered softly, not sure if the voice heard him or not, _no I  . . . I didn't mean to . . ._

_It matters not wither you _meant _to, boy, _it continued ruthlessly, _only that you _did _it._

The remorseless hissing voice paused for a moment, as if in thought, and the silence burned Neo's mind as much as the following words would.

_And that you will again._

The horror and panic those words brought caused Neo to loose his footing.  He fell out of his victim's mind, out of Hardorn, and back into his own body.

Sharp ebony eyes snapped open, followed shortly by a pain-filled gasp as he become aware of his surroundings.  With a trembling hand, he reached up to run his hand over his face, and then drew it away in surprise when he felt wetness.

Fingers pulled back, drenched with tears and sweat, and Neo realized he was still crying as he studied them.  The condemning hiss filled his mind once more, but it was now only his own memory echoing callously, and not the voice itself.

_You did it._

_You _did _it._

You did it.

His trembles gave way to shakes, and then to something quite close to convulsions.  He buried his head in his hands, seeking some form of relief, something to make him forget the truth behind the wicked words.  But no relief came, nothing eased away the dread and revulsion.  There was only pain, and memory, and a slow, distant hissing chuckle.

***

Menith had been waiting very impatiently for Neoka to return.  He had prayed the boy wouldn't find anything.  That the sickness couldn't be traced to anything over the borders.  That his prodigy would not run into a dark mage, working evil mind magic in Hardorn.

He prayed that the entirety of the Heralds were wrong about Neoka.  That the boy could control his power, and not have to be Shielded day and night for the rest of his life.  That Neoka would grow to accept and control his Gift, and that no harm would ever come of it.

But most of all, he prayed that Neoka would return swiftly.

He wasn't quite prepared when the last of his prayers were answered.

The presence of Neoka shot past both Heralds, like an arrow loosed from the most powerful of bows.  They could only stand and blink stupidly in his wake, wondering at the speed with which the spirit had taken flight.

Jhaspar was the first to recover, gathering his wits and flying after the boy, back to Haven.  Menith followed shortly.

They settled into their own bodies in little time, blinking open their eyes and focusing on the boy sitting across from them.

Menith could barely hold back the shocked gasp in his throat.

Neoka, the sharp-eyed, sharp-witted boy that didn't seem to let much get to him, was on his knees, practically screaming at the sky.  His eyes were shut tight, but tears flowed from them freely, and-Menith noted with another stab of shock-so did his emotions.

The Shields previously erected around Neoka had not held past the borders, and Menith swore at his own stupidity as he struggled to remedy the fact.

Before he could finish though, Neoka's feelings flooded over him, and he was completely overcome with sorrow, regret, and-most of all-self loathing.

He swam in them helplessly, seeing no way out, and as stuck in them as the boy himself.

He could find no center for the pain, only endless amounts of guilt and revulsion, and Menith had one, clear second to wonder what on Velgarth happened to the poor boy, before becoming swallowed up once again.

A blue, familiar light, wrapped around him, Shielded him, and tossed him out of Neoka's head.  Hyatee.

The Companion stood behind him, heaving with exertion from the run over to his Chosen, and the effort it took to Find and Seize him.

Menith blinked the remaining tendrils of the feelings away, momentarily taking in Jhaspar in a similar state, with a more calm looking Carogan standing over him.  The Companion beside the still weeping Neoka was not like both of the others.  His head was bent, pressed against the ground, and his sides heaved with gasps as an unnervingly human-like moan ripped through him.  He was still touching the boy, and couldn't seem to find the ability to pull away.

Menith desperately threw and locked Shields around Neoka, and after a wordless Mindtouch with Jhaspar, the Own did the same.

The Companion-Amaro, he remembered-slowly lifted his head and gazed at them with blue eyes gone nearly black in anguish.

He was panting as if he had run leagues, but soon found the strength to rise to his hooves, and unsteadily stay there.  No longer the first in line to be milled by Neoka's emotions, the Companion warily watched as the boy sobbed and shuddered unrelentingly.  To Menith's surprise, Amaro very gently, and very slowly, nosed the boy's shoulder.

Hyatee took a step forward.

_:He__ is still dangerous at the moment, Amaro.  Wait until he passes out, for he has not much strength left in him.: Menith could only nod softly in agreement, and the Companion pulled his nose away.  He did not turn tail and run, as Menith half suspected him to, but stayed beside Neoka's shoulder, until the boy gave one last final shudder, and slumped to the ground._

Menith and Jhaspar quickly gathered him up and hurried him to the Healers Wing, leaving the three Companions behind.

_:What__ happened, Amaro?  You were closest to him, did you Feel anything from him before he gave way to sobs?: Carogan asked the still shaking Companion.  Amaro hesitated, then shook his head slowly, dropping his sapphire eyes to the ground._

_:If__ you do not wish to stay play-Companion to the boy . . . we would understand.: Carogan persisted.  Amaro raised his head a bit at that, and the other Companions feared he would take the escape offered._

_:No__ . . . no I will still be here when he returns.: Amaro said unexpectedly, before going down to his knees with a soft grunt, and sinking there to rest._

Hyatee and Carogan nodded once, before trotting off to other business.

Amaro raised his silver head towards the Healer's Wing, tucking his legs beneath him and sighing.

_You are not a killer Neoka . . ._

***

The group of Herald Trainees gathered together conspiratorially, whispering under their breath in a seriousness that would almost have been comic, if their expressions warranted any to laugh.  Some looked nervously over the shoulders down the empty corridor while others had dangerously furrowed eyebrows.

One among them remained devoid of any such somber actions.  His dusty brown hair was messy from where he had run his hand through it in agitation, and he looked at his fellow Trainees with disapproving blue eyes.

"I don't know how you all got like this," he said, annoyance clear in his voice, "but I want you to stop it.  You're taking this entire 'Gray against Blue' stuff way too seriously.  It's beginning to get childish." The others looked at him incredulously.

"Greg!" cried one in a low tone, "You of all of us should be furious at those stuck-up Aristo's!  Just last week you had a run-in with one of their ring leaders!"

Greg sighed, exasperated by his year mates.

"That was _last week_!  And he's not a ring leader.  Honestly, why are you all acting like this?!  You're going to end up no better then the Blues you despise so much!" that sent most of them into silence, but the quick-tempered ones did not let his insult slide.

"If you're not going to help us, you're in the way." Said one, standing before him with his arms crossed severely.  Greg tried to calm his own raising temper, but it would not hold.

"Idiots!  You're getting into water too deep for you to swim in!  Just leave the damn Blues alone!  Or someone's going to get hurt!" he turned on his heel before any could answer, storming down the hall like a thunder cloud.

Sure, he didn't like the Blues any more then the next Gray, but these guys were taking it too far!  They were actually plotting to get half the Blues kicked out of the Collegium . . . and while some deserved far worse, a few didn't.  Like the boy he had fought a few days ago.

Greg turned a corner and slowed in his furious gait.  Leaning against the wall, eyes on the floor, he fumed about the mule-like stubbornness of both groups.

_Something's wrong . . . they aren't usually like this . . . something's setting their tempers off . . . _he decided, crossing his arms and sighing.

His own slight Gift of Empathy was under tight Shield, and he didn't think it would be of much use in this case . . . but he had to try.

Warily, ready to snap his barriers up at the least of warnings, he lowered his Shields, and Looked around the Collegium.

He didn't have to Look far.

Swirling through the air like a heavy mist was the strongest Projection he had ever Felt.  Almost loosing himself in the deep human emotions, he reassembled his walls and clutched at his shirt.  Sweat dripped from his forehead, but he ignored it.  The mist was strong, and he was surprised it hadn't gotten through his own Shields.  It churned with dark emotions, many too deep for Greg to comprehend, but most simple enough to grasp.  Hate was the underlying emotion, a loathing he hadn't felt before, and hoped never to again.  It fueled all the rest; anger, sadness, and the most frustrating of helplessness's.  The hate turned on anything it could touch, even the barrier of the feelings.

Greg pushed his head into his hands and breathed deeply, trying desperately to find his center and ground so he could think straight.

_:?: _the wordless questioning feeling came from a foreign but familiar mind.

_:Surra__!: he called in relief, __:Oh, thank the gods . . . look!: he "tossed" his discovery to his Companion, and Felt her surprise._

_:Greg__ . . .: she couldn't seem to find any words, so he let her work out her own thoughts as he returned to centering himself._

_:Love__,: he said, straightening himself and steeling his backbone once he was successfully and fully Shielded once more, __:we cant let this go on.  I have to tell one of the Heralds . . . Herald Kara, maybe?  She is __in charge of Trainees.  You think this would fall into her category?:_

_:I__ don't know . . . where is it coming from?: she knew that he had no idea, but it was a question that had to be answered._

Greg started down the hall once more, quickly recalling where Kara's office was located.  He steered himself down a few more corridors, before reaching her door.

He knocked softly, and a little nervously.  For all the peacefulness Kara radiated every time he had seen and spoken to her before, something about the Herald made him edgy.  She always seemed to know everything about the Trainee's before they even come to the Collegium.  Perhaps she had an overly active Gift of Foresight?  Greg didn't know anymore about the Herald then his fellow Trainees did, and it could very well be a possibility that her Gift had something to do with the way she set him off.

"Come in." came the expectedly calm voice from inside the room.  He entered and closed the door behind him, seeing Herald Kara sitting calmly under a flickering candle at her desk, holding a small leather bound book in her right hand.

"I . . . I didn't mean to interrupt you, Herald . . . but I've just found something . . ." he trailed off, close to hating himself over his un-centered nervousness.

"Oh?  And what would that be, Trainee Greg?" she asked, somehow keeping her voice from being condescending and irritatingly sweet at the same time.  He swallowed a little difficultly, and walked further into the room.

"As I'm sure you know, Herald, my Gift is Empathy . . . and though it is weak, I have Shields up to protect it day and night . . ." he began, "I dropped these Shields a little while ago, and found some very strong Projecting throughout the entire Collegium.  It's affecting how the Grays and Blue think, and they're close to declaring war on each other . . ."

She didn't look alarmed or even surprised at the news, only nodded and fixed him with an unwavering blue gaze.

"Yes.  A newly Chosen has had his Gift awakened.  We are trying to keep things under control, but his Gift is very powerful.  It will be a while yet before his own Shields can be erected and all this cleared up.  I appreciate you telling me the situation though, Trainee.  I will look into this 'war,' as you so aptly put it." She gave him the smallest of smiles, and Greg knew that he had been dismissed.  He lowered his head slightly, both as an informal salute and a sign of dejection.  He left Kara's office as quickly as he dared, without seeming to hurry.

Surra, waiting impatiently in the back of his head, jumped at the chance to question him.

_:What__ did she say?: she asked.  Greg sighed, wishing he wouldn't have to repeat it, but knowing his and Surra's bond was not strong enough for her to overhear his conversations when he wasn't directly linked with her._

_:A__ newly Chosen is causing all of this, with a powerful Gift that isn't fully Shielded yet.  Nothing more.: he could feel her shock, and sent a wordless thought of curiosity as to why she should be surprised._

_:No__ Companions have left the Field on Search, and none I talk with have been feeling any kind of Call.  I think I would be informed if a Companion Chose recently . . .: Greg smothered his grin at her worried tone._

_:'Be__ informed' indeed.  You're just mad that something has slipped past the Gossip Queen.: he felt her indignation, but with it came a bit of amusement._

_:There__ is that.: she admitted, her voice flavored with a grin._

_:Would__ you mind asking around then, love?  For some reason I'm curious as all hells about this new Trainee.: he ran his hand through his hair dejectedly, wondering why he was feeling any kind of interest when the case was obviously a simple one._

_:I__ was going to 'ask around' anyway.  My informants shouldn't be taking vacations.: and he felt her turn away from him, towards other things, as he himself should be doing.  He had History in a couple of minutes, and he was as far away from where the class was being held as it was possible to be in the Collegium._

Sprinting down the halls, Greg barely had enough time to sidestep two Heralds coming in from Companion's Field, carrying something between them, before increasing his speed and dashing towards his class.  Instructor Jaist was never merciful upon Trainees late to his class.  Greg hated to think what would happen to him if he stopped to say sorry to the Heralds, so he kept running, throwing an apology over his shoulder as he raced onwards.

***

Menith nearly swore in surprise when a Trainee came hurtling down the halls, straight for them.  He and Jhaspar barely kept Neoka from falling out of their hold as the Gray shouted an apology over his shoulder and kept running.  He glared after the boy, only coming back to himself when the soft sounds of Jhaspar's laughter echoed through his ears.

"And what, may I ask, is so funny?" he growled, shifting his hold on the unconscious Blue between them and resuming their walk towards the Healers Collegium.  Jhaspar sent him a dry look through his chuckles.

"It has been a long time since you yourself were a Trainee, has it not Menith?" he asked, shifting his own hands to equally balance Neoka's weight.  The boy was thin, and didn't weigh much, but he was tall, and had too many angles to him for one person to carry him comfortably.

"It has." Menith answered warily, returning the dry glance.

"The boy was late for class, and by the hastiness of his steps, I would say it was History, with Instructor Jaist." The chuckles started again.  Menith winced inwardly in sympathy.  Herald Jaist held no qualms about disciplining his students if they stepped into his classroom late.  And his "disciplining" took longer to heal then the Weapons Master's did, as it was a rather harsh beating upon one's pride, rather then one's body.  Jaist might be weak in arms, but his tongue was as sharp as a whip, and never held back when punishing . . . _or in anything else, come to think of it._

Menith grunted a wordless answer to the King's Own, and let silence fall between them.  As they walked, Menith delved into the events moments past.

_:Hyatee__.: he called after a brief minute of thinking._

_:Here__.: came the expected reply._

_:You__ stayed with the Companion posing as partner to Neoka after we left . . .: _

_:Yes__,: Hyatee responded, and then caught the thought that Menith was about to form into question, __:He knows nothing about what the boy saw, nor why he acted as he did when he returned to his body.:_

_:Damn__ . . . guess we'll have to wait for Neoka to wake up to answer our questions.: he sighed aloud._

_:I__ think we will have to wait longer then that, _Chosen___ . . .: and Hyatee was gone, turning onto other matters before Menith could ask what he meant._

"Dear gods!" Healer Y'von's shrill voice snapped him out of his confusion as they entered Healers Collegium.  She hurried up to them, looking at the rather pitiful sight of Neoka suspended between them, angry green fire lighting her eyes, "What happened?!"

"We brought him down to Companion's Field, as you wanted Healer Y'von." Jhaspar said calmly, before Menith could utter a syllable, "He passed out after a few Gift-exercises."

The fire in her eyes lessoned in intensity, but the blaze was still there.

"I made up his own room, over here." She said immediately, leading them towards a door, "A Guard will be posted outside it, during the night, so he won't be disturbed.  I hope those exercises were worth an extra day of Healing, Heralds." She bristled slightly, opening the door and waving them in.

It was a typical Healer's room, tiled walls and a single cot in the middle, with bleached sheets.  She rushed them toward it, gathering a few things from shelves as she moved about the room. 

Menith and Jhaspar laid Neoka down on the bed, positioning him so he wasn't in an uncomfortable pose.

Y'von didn't let them stay long.  She bustled them out of the room like a mother hen, and returned to Neoka's side after she closed the door behind them.

Menith sent a sour look at the door, but knew the workings of Healers, and left the look at that.  

"I'd like to be informed when he awakens." Jhaspar said unexpectedly, and Menith was surprised to find the King's Own looking at him.

"After what happened today?" Menith scuffed, "You'll be lucky if you ever catch sight of the boy again!  Something happened over that border, King's Own!  Something that must have hurt him terribly.  He isn't one to cry lightly, I know this, and I haven't known the boy long.  If you hadn't been so damn set on finding out what was causing some sickness, none of this would have happened!"

Jhaspar stood as still as a statue throughout Menith's tirade, watching him with calm, calculating eyes.  When the angry speech wound down, he began his own.

"Herald Menith," he started, his voice clipped and frosty, "you have little respect for a person's situation, and none for a person themselves!  You refuse to look beyond your side of the problem, and this makes you bias on everything that involves you-"

Menith's face had gone red in anger; "I don't need a list of my damn shortcomings-" he interrupted.

"You need to open you eyes man!" Jhaspar broke in, eyes flashing dangerously, "I did what needed to be done!  Neoka has the power to find out what we need to know, and I _will_ use that power!  You don't take this sickness seriously, but everyone else does!  It is _Mage made_,_ and needs to be dealt with!"_

Menith glared resentfully at Jhaspar, but knew the Herald had a point.  Perhaps he wasn't taking this sickness as seriously as he should.  Perhaps Jhaspar wasn't entirely to blame for whatever happened to Neoka.  And perhaps he would do well to give a little more consideration and respect for people and their problems . . . but he'd be damned if he'd admit it now, and to this pretentious excuse of a Herald!

"Neoka shouldn't be drawn into this!  He's a boy, and a Blue at that!  He isn't Chosen, doesn't have the responsibility towards Valdemar that we have, and didn't ask for any of this-"

This time he was cut off by a soft cough, not from Jhaspar.

"Excuse me," it was a Healer Trainee, a mouse of a girl, with soft brown hair and a round, quiet looking face, "but could you perhaps take this quarrel outside?  You are disturbing patients."

Both Heralds blinked in surprise, then looked around to find that they had indeed disturbed patients.  

And everyone else in the House of Healing.

People peeked out from behind doors, and Healers tapped angry foots against the floor, glaring at the two Heralds.

The only door not opened was the one they had just left, holding Healer Y'von and Neoka.

"Please excuse us," Jhaspar said, unperturbed, "Herald Menith; we will continue this discussion later." The sharp glance gave away the easily translated thought of how _soon_ "later" would be. 

Menith nodded frigidly, watching the King's Own turn firmly on his heel and stride through the hall.  The Healers and patients soon disappeared behind doors, sending Menith brief disapproving glances when they passed, as he took a seat on the bench closest to Neoka's room.  

He sighed and rubbed his temples.  He never could keep a tight leash on his tongue, and he would always regret what he said in anger after his words' victim left.

_But Jhaspar is as closed-minded as me! _He fumed silently, slouching against the back of the bench and frowning darkly, _He cares for his country so blindly that he sees its people as a complete whole, as if everyone is the same, and feels the same about everything . . ._

He sent his gaze to the ceiling and continued fuming.

_People aren't like that.  Valdemar may be in everyone's heart, but things that concern it, things that happen inside of it . . . everyone doesn't agree on all those issues, and Jhaspar is an idiot if he doesn't see that!  I may have little respect for most people, but at least I know that truth!  He has to see that people are individuals, that they have concerns more important to them then things that happen in the Kingdom.  He has to see that Neoka has other worries . . . the boy's been thrown into waters too deep for him.  Neoka doesn't see how his Gift can be a good thing and Jhaspar doesn't understand why he feels that way._

He sighed again and lolled his head back, grunting when a few kinks in his neck protested.

_And it all falls to me to make things work out . . . _he pressed a palm to his face, almost groaning in antipathy at his position, _I should never have scrambled onto Hyatee's back that day . . . I should have stayed in that rotting field and become a fat old farmer with no concerns other then my belly._

But he knew that, even if he could go back in time to the day Hyatee ambled by his little village on the Border, he wouldn't have changed a thing.  He would have done everything exactly the same, right down to the mistake of stopping in the village to show his family his sparkling new Companion.  He almost laughed at the memory of half the village storming after Hyatee as they rode off for taking one of their firstborn sons.

No, he wouldn't change a thing . . . but that didn't stop him from resenting his current situation.

***

Greg stumbled into class almost a full half-candlemark late.  Every head turned as he looked guiltily at the floor and strode forward, toward his seat.

"Trainee D'mar," he winced at the voice of Instructor Jaist, calling him forward by his surname.  He kept his eyes on the ground and prepared himself for one of Jaist's punishments, "I take it you have a reasonable excuse for your tardiness?"

Greg glanced up into the face of the instructor.  Merciless gray eyes made him quickly avert his gaze.  Herald Jaist was as cold looking as his reputation, gray eyes and gray hair, through neither gave the feeling of old age.  His narrow face suited his attitude perfectly, though a smile made everything change . . . the few times anyone had seen him smile, that is.

"I . . . no, I don't, sir." Greg answered, hunching his shoulders forward defensively.  A sigh sounded from above him.

"Take a seat, Trainee." Came the unexpected exasperated answer.  Was he going to get away with no punishment?

Not one to tempt fate, Greg quickly returned to his seat.

However, just because Jaist was in a rare good mood, didn't mean his neighbors were.

And they were almost all Blues.

The one sitting closest to him snorted in disgust as Greg slipped into his chair.

"The things Grays get away with these days." He jeered, rolling his eyes at the others.  Several of the girls giggled into their hands, and a few boys smirked nastily.  Greg glowered at the boy who had made the comment, but didn't say anything.

One of the Blue girls, a dainty, blond, blue-eyed pretty, didn't seem to have heard him.  Her gaze was not focused on anything in the classroom, and her face was set in a troubled frown.

The Unaffiliated group promptly forgot about Greg for the moment.

"What's wrong, Leslly?" one of the other girls asked, taking her friend's hand in concern.  Another girl began to giggle again.

"She's pining over her lost love." She said, when the others turned questioning gazes towards her.  The boy who had insulted Greg snorted and raised his nose into the air pompously.

"Neoka?  Huh," he crossed his arms, and it finished the perfect image of a stuck-up Noble, "he probably got booted out of this place, for beating on too many Grays." He fixed malicious chestnut eyes upon Greg, who pretended to ignore them, "If I recall correctly, this one was his last opponent."

Greg blinked.  The Blue who hadn't acted like a Blue?  The one his sister had been doting over?

"Oh, who cared about a commoner like him?" the girl who was clutching the love-sick Blue's hand sniffed at Greg, "Leslly's heartbroken!"

Most of the boys rolled their eyes, but the one called Leslly spoke up before any more spiteful comments could escape.

"I'm not heartbroken." She said, staring at the girl holding her hand as if she were mad, "It was a simple infatuation, just like every other girl had." She pulled her hand out of the girl's grasp.  The group quickly closed in around her and began the questioning.  Greg could still hear every word, and it was beginning to get interesting.

"Honestly," Leslly continued, "Neoka was just . . . interesting."

"He seemed more strange then interesting to me," one of the boys said, "like he knew what you were thinking, even if you didn't say anything . . . and sometimes I swear I could feel what he was thinking."

"That's _why _he was interesting," Leslly scolded him, "almost every girl I know loved that mysterious air he had about him."

"_I _never liked him," another girl piped up defensively.  Leslly sighed.

"You either loved him, or hated him.  There was no middle way with Neoka." She sounded very grown up, for all of her sixteen years.  Greg tilted his head a little to catch their words as they drew themselves into whispers.

"Why did he leave though?  No one's seen him for almost two weeks!" asked a curious feminine voice.

"Who cares?" answered a curt male one, "He was always strange, and he only kept getting stranger.  You think he had one of those Gifts, like the Heralds do?"

Greg leaned further towards them.  

"Could be," someone whispered back, "that would make sense, considering all those times he answered questions no one asked."

Out of the corner of his eye, Greg saw a few of them shudder.

"I knew he wasn't normal!" the girl who said it shook her head as she spoke, "Coming from _that_ family though, how could he be?"

"So," one boy turned to Leslly, "you don't like him anymore because he got too strange?"

Leslly nodded, then seemed to think about it.

"That," she said after a moment of silence, "and, beyond the fight with that Gray over there, he only fought other Blues."

Greg blinked at this new information.

Only fought with other Blues?  Answered questions never asked?  Others knew what he was thinking?

These were all unmistakable and possibly dangerous signs of a developing Gift . . . was _Neoka_ causing the disturbance between the students?  With a newly awakened Gift?

Greg scowled at himself.  He was being too hasty, grasping for answers that couldn't possibly be correct . . .

But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something behind the Blue's gossip . . . something he should follow up on.

Authors note: The next chapter is a LOT more interesting.  We get another peek over the Border, and an old acquaintance has a chat with Neo.  But I hope this one wasn't boring.  I would have gone on, to get some action scenes in, but it would have been at least another ten pages before we got to anything interesting, and taken twice as long to write.  I left you with a rather nasty cliffhanger last time, so I decided to get this up as soon as I finished writing it.  I really hope you enjoyed it, and please leave a comment via review! 


	6. Endless nights

Authors note: This is not read through, so if there are more grammatical or spelling errors then normal, please forgive me!  But if there are so many you can't make heads-nor-tails of this chapter, please drop complaints upon my head until I decide to re-write the thing!

Neo didn't know where he was.  He was alone, that was for sure.  And he wasn't dead.  There were a lot of poems, songs, and stories about death, but in all of them it is a very peaceful end.  A painless space of time between one life and the next, where nothing mattered because nothing existed.

This was certainly not painless.  A deep, agonizing burning in every point of his body told him _that_ was too much to hope for.  And he was still plagued by his unforgettable and unforgivable actions in Hardorn.

No, he was not dead.  But where _was_ he?

A dark, cold place, somewhere he had never been before.  Even his dreams were more animate then this.  At least in his dreams he wasn't alone.  He was confronting his father, or searching for his sister, or walking with a formless being in a field of flowers.

The last one was his favorite.  The sky was a deep spring blue, and the creature walking with him filled his heart with wordless joy, though he had no idea why.  They never talked, but the silence was anything but uncomfortable.  And the dream always ended too early for Neo.

But this was the opposite of his dream.  There was no joy in this empty space, no blue sky or field of flowers.  And no shapeless being, who seemed to be a part of him and not at the same time.

There was only shadow, and silence, and the lonely chill that followed these things.

_Neo . . ._

He nearly jumped in surprise when the soundless voice ripped through the black landscape.

"Wh- who's there?" he yelled into the encroaching darkness.

_Neo . . . can you hear me?_

The chill that had been deafening in the silence wrapped icy tendrils around his heart, until he couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't move.

_Neo . . . it's me . . ._

He could not give voice to any thoughts, but he could think them.

_Who are you?! _He Shouted as loud as he could, and it echoed around him strangely.

_It's me, Neo . . . it's Vannasa . . ._

He stumbled over his next thought, shock adding its own restraint to his mind.  

_Vannasa?__ The thought was barely a whisper, but it still echoed through the shadows._

_Neo, _the voice whispered back, _Neo, I found you!_

That excitement, that lovely tinkling voice . . . it _was _his sister!

_Vannasa!  Gods . . . where are you?  Why can't I see you?_ He searched the dark with probing eyes, desperately struggling against whatever held him from moving.

_Neo . . . brother . . . _the excitement drained out of her Voice so fast it frightened him.  It used to take so much to stop her joy . . . _I'm sorry . . . I had to do it . . . so many would have died if I hadn't . . ._

Neo paused in his struggles, now scanning his surroundings in confusion, _Do what, 'Nasa? _He asked.

_I'm so sorry, Neo . . . _she was close to tears, if not already crying, _you'll be so mad at me . . . but I had to do it!_

Neo shook his head, brows furrowed in worry, _Vannasa, I won't be mad at you.  I couldn't!  Tell me, 'Nasa; tell me what you're so scared of._

He could hear her sobs now, and they tore at his heart more then anything else could.

_Vannasa, _he begged, _please tell me!  I'll stop it, whatever it is that's scaring you!  I . . . I've a Gift now, sister; I can use it to help us!_

The sobs only increased, and Neo was close to adding his own cries to the distressing sound.  But this time, Vannasa answered him.

_Th__-that's just it . . . I had to awaken it . . . I had to open your mind . . . I'm so sorry, Neo, but I had__ to do it!  There was no other way . . ._

Neo did not understand.  Vannasa . . . his sister would be about fourteen now, and living a very pampered lifestyle in Hardorn, with his mother and whoever she had run away with . . . what was his sister doing in his dream?  And what was she rambling on about?

Disbelief filled him.  It was only a dream.  A disgustingly desperate attempt of his subconscious to offer some sort of comfort for his guilt and rapidly growing self-hate.

He snarled mentally at himself.  He was a murderer!  He should be put to death, and be happy to get that mercy!  He shouldn't be trying to consol himself with visits from long lost relatives.

_Neo . . . _he would have turned away from the voice, but it sounded so much like her that it hurt . . . he couldn't turn away, not from her, not ever . . . but he would not listen to his mind's rendition of his loving sister.

_Quiet! _He yelled, and there was sudden silence following his outburst, _Be__ silent!  You are not my sister!  I will not accept this comfort!  I will not lower myself to this!_

A surprise not his own went through him, and then a deep sadness.

_Neo, I _am _your sister.  You could not imagine me . . . Neo, I need your help._

He would have yelled at her again, but that last statement made him pause. 

_Help?  Help with what? _He asked, a little warily.  What was his mind trying to pull now?

_I am a prisoner, Neo! _The shout was brimming with fear and anger, and Neo knew that he could not have imagined that, no matter how desperate he was.

_A prisoner?_He repeated, dumbfounded.

_In Hardorn . . . the man mother ran away with . . . he tricked her . . . gods, Neo, he _killed _her!  He killed her right in front of me! _

Neo went silent in shock.  But only for a moment.

_K-killed . . . her?_Yes, he had animosity towards the woman for taking away his sister.  And yes, he wouldn't have overly cared if her life wasn't as pampered as it had been in Haven . . . but _dead?  __Killed?_

_I couldn't do anything, Neo! _Vannasa continued, _He . . . he said he'd do the same to me if I didn't do what he said . . . gods, I was so scared!_

Neo could hardly blame her for that.  Her fear at the memory of the incident was strong enough to make _him _shake.

_Vannasa . . . _he wanted to give her some sort of comfort, but what could he say?  What could he do that would take this fear from her?

_He . . . he wants something of the Heralds, Neo.__ Neo blinked in surprise.  The Heralds?  What did they have that someone would want? _He . . . he called it the "Web of Light" or something like that . . . I . . . I wasn't really listening to him.__

Neo did not know what she was talking about, but believed her all the same.

_I'm in Haven right now, 'Nassa. _He said soothingly, _With the Heralds.  Nothing can get to them.  They've Gifts like mine.  I don't think the Mage can get this "Web of Power"._

_He isn't attacking the capital!  He's attacking the Border!_

_The Border?_He hadn't heard of any attacks on the Border . . .

_With _sickness _Neo!  He's attacking Valdemaran's with sickness__! _

Neo felt his stomach drop to his feet.  The mind sickness?  

_He wants to draw out the Heralds, _she continued, _he wants to bring them to the Border, or into Hardorn._

_How? _It was all Neo could manage to "say".  He couldn't think clearly with all of this new and frightening information running about his head.

_Me.__ Vannasa said softly after a long moment of hesitation, _He's doing it through me._ _

_What?  Through you? _He asked, baffled.

_We've the same Gift, Neo.  And the same level of power, because both of ours were forced open._

Again, Neo was left without words.  His Gift was forced open?  By who?  And why?

_By me._Vannasa said unexpectedly, _Because__ there was no other way._

Neo stared into the darkness disbelievingly.

_You . . . you forced this Gift open? _He asked weakly, _But _why _Vannasa?!  Why would you do something like that?!_

He was unaccountably angry.  For some reason, he felt betrayal well up inside him.  Why would his _sister,of all people, wish to turn his life completely upside down?_

_I wouldn't have done it if there had been any other way, Neo! _She whimpered sorrowfully, _But I cannot escape him, and someone needs to protect Valdemar . . . someone needs to defeat him._

The anger drained out of him.  Replaced by confusion.

_Defeat him?  Wh-what do you mean?_

_Someone needs to stop him, Neo.  I cannot.  His hold on me is unshakable.  But you . . . you are equal in my strength, and you are not under his control._

He shook his head in incredulity, but she continued before he could say anything.

_Please, Neo.  Please help me.  Please help everyone!  You must come to Hardorn . . . to the capital . . . you must defeat him, before he spreads his sickness all over Valdemar!_

And with that final plea, the darkness that had been stifling his mind retreated.  He was alone again, but not in that empty world any more.

"Vannasa!" he called out, but his sister was gone.  He was back inside his own body, shivering and sweating uncontrollably.

Just as suddenly as he had returned, pain overwhelmed him.  A headache that reached to every pore in his body washed over him mercilessly, and he moaned in agony.

Someone apparently heard him, because his head was being tilted forward by a cool hand, and a cold, foul tasting liquid was poured down his throat.  After a few more unbearable minutes, the potion took effect, and he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

***

Jhaspar stood still before the King, trying very hard not to give away any of what he was thinking.  The King gave him a piercing look from his seat, which said very clearly that he wasn't hiding things very well.

"I will not let this sickness continue." The King went on, after making eye contact with his Own, "The virus must be dealt with."

"I know, Aboras." Jhaspar said, a little exasperatedly, "But sending Heralds to the Border . . ."

"I consider it serious enough for that action." Aboras said, rubbing the scar that ran down the side of his face thoughtfully.  Jhaspar winced a little at the movement.  The sword that had bestowed that wound had been defeated long ago . . . before Jhaspar had even come to the Collegium . . . but he couldn't help but feel guilty about not being by his King's side on that day.  Every time Aboras touched that scar, Jhaspar was compelled to make up for his absence . . . which made him more agreeable to his King's proposals, when he should be more skeptic.

But surely sending a group of Heralds with mind oriented Gifts to the Border to investigate the spreading sickness was too much too early.

_:Is__ it?: Carogan said suddenly, __:Or are you afraid this is becoming more serious then you first hoped?:_

Jhaspar knew when Caro had a point, and this was one of those times.  He did not refute his Companion . . . but he didn't have to agree with him either.  He stayed silent in his mind, but admitted defeat aloud.

"Which Heralds do you have in mind for the journey?" Jhaspar asked, trying to keep bitterness out of his voice.  

Aboras hid his smile behind his hand.  Obviously, he and Jhaspar's Companion had ganged up on the poor boy again.

"Herald Tru, Herald Rhes, and Herald Veera." he said, thinking of his chosen journeymen as he listed them.

Herald Tru was a Mage, though not a very powerful one.  He had equally powerful Mindspeech, and a pretty hand with weapons.  He was one of the Heralds that was useful in every occasion, and very effective as well.

Herald Rhes has a rather powerful Gift of Mindspeech.  He would be able to communicate with Heralds in the Collegium, particularly his twin brother, Herald Jaist.

And Herald Veera was also a Healer.  She was dragged out of Healer's Collegium by her Companion, and sent straight back into studying at the Herald's Collegium.  Needless to say, she was very annoyed, but her talents would be useful on this mission.

Jhaspar was nodding in agreement to his choices.  

"They've worked together before.  All good choices, Aboras.  But I still do not think this situation calls for Heraldic action.  Perhaps if the Heralds you mentioned escorted MindHealers, or just plain Healers to the Border-"

"I am not a fool, Jhaspar." Aboras said, his voice a little clipped, "Healers have proved next to useless against this sickness.  What could they do at the Border?  If a Mage is causing all of this, Heralds are the only ones that can deal with it.  And if a Mage is _not _the source of it, Heralds _will _find out what is."

There was another corner Jhaspar was fenced into.  All the Heralds Aboras had chosen did have the spy-like ability to observe and deduce from next to no information.  If there was a Mage behind the sickness, they would not be hidden for long.  Not with _those Heralds on his trail._

And even as he was thinking of this, an idea formed.

Neoka was the only one they had found with power enough to cure the virus victims, even those exposed to it for weeks on end.  The Heralds might be able to _find the Mage, but what if they couldn't _do _anything about it?  What if their Gifts were too weak?  What if the Mage was as strong as the sickness?_

It was a frightening thought, but Jhaspar had a solution.  Neoka, once trained up a bit, would be their answer.  Once the Blue fully developed his Shields, and knew how to handle his Gift, he would be a force none could stand against.

There was a slight chance that Neoka _wouldn't be strong enough to defeat the Mage, but Jhaspar couldn't afford to think of that.  He must either put all his hope into the Heralds taking care of the sickness, or Neoka taking care of it._

The only barrier that stopped Jhaspar from immediately seeking Neoka out and throwing him into Gift studies, was Menith.

The obdurate Herald was deeply taken with the boy, even if he himself didn't know it.  He wouldn't be agreeable if his prodigy was flung at the Border towards a _slightly possible sacrifice, even if it __was for the good of Valdemar._

"Aboras," he began, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully, "would you object to my adding another to the Border-bound Heralds?" he glanced down long enough to see the surprise on Aboras' face.

"Who do you have in mind?"

Jhaspar kept his eager smile from touching his lips.

"Herald Menith."

***

When Neo woke again, his headache was mostly subdued.  It still throbbed in the back of his mind, but he could move, albeit slowly and gingerly, and turned to look out the single window of his room.

A full moon hung heavily in the star-filled night sky, lighting Companion's Field as easily as the sun.  He tentatively reached up to rub his eyes and sigh, before his "meeting" with his sister came back to him.

_Vannasa . . . _the hand that held his eyes was suddenly holding tears as well.  What he wouldn't give to speak with his sister again, to share his life with her, and hers with him.

But even if he did know how to use his Mind's power to contact her, he knew he didn't have the strength to keep it. 

_Damn this Gift! _He snarled silently, _Just when it proves useful I can't use it!_              

_'I'm a prisoner, Neo!' _his breath hitched at the remembered call for aid, and he trembled slightly.

_In Hardorn . . . she's in Hardorn . . . gods, if only I could . . . _if only he could what?  If only he could run as fast as Companions could?  If only he could use his Gift to defeat this murderous kidnapper that held his precious sister?

The later was still being affected by his _own__ murder.  How could he help his sister if he himself wasn't any better then her captor?  What if he lost control when-__if-he found her, and harmed some one else?  What if __she was the one he hurt?_

Even as he thought of all the reasons he shouldn't go, he knew it would have no effect upon him.  He _couldn't _leave his sister in Hardorn.  He _wouldn't!_

So perhaps the later wasn't the problem.  But the first certainly was!  Even if he could get out of Haven-_which, he thought, __is a problem unto itself-how would he make it to the Border, or even into Hardorn?!_

Only if he had the fastest hooves in Companion's Field would he outrun pursuers.  Only if he _had a Companion would he get by any questions.  _

As he stared at the silver-lit Field below his window, one of the Companions sauntered into his view.  And, to his surprise, it was Amaro.  The lean, arrow-like Companion that the Heralds had paired him up with.

Half wild thoughts shot through his mind.

If only he could get Amaro to bear him!  If only he could get the Companion to help him!

And, to Neo's never-ending thankfulness, his usual sharp mind began to work in high gear.

He wasn't completely doused in drugs.  He _could _use his Gift to project his feelings to another being.  His desperation to help his sister was strong enough to send a man like his father into hysterics.  Surely he would be able to find the strength to project that long enough to make a lasting impression!  The only thing was . . . would his Gift work on a Companion?

_Only one way to find out . . . _        

He slipped out of the sheets with renewed energy.  Amaro certainly _looked like his legs would flit across land as fast as wings could, and Neo-who was, after all, Valdemaran-knew no beast could match a Companion's speed._

But if no other _Companion _could match Amaro in speed . . .

He would have nothing to worry about except what he would do once he found his sister.  And that he would think about only when he actually found her . . .

It was the perfect solution, and he damn well would take it.

He made it to the door without stumbling, and thought he heard the sound of voices outside.  Stopping to listen, he pressed his ear against the cold wood of his door.

"-easy enough being stationed in Haven.  Not much you Heralds don't take care of.  And I'm too old to be sent out to some village." The voice certainly sounded old, and tired at that.

"Wish I could say the same." Came the gruff retort, in the unmistakable voice of Menith.  Neo hesitated.  _They _would put a damper on his plan . . .

Sighing and closing his eyes, Neo silently apologized to both his mentor and whoever else was out there.  He reached out with his mind, and-as gently as he possibly could-overpowered them.  He Felt their surprise, followed immediately by the silence of the unconscious, and heard two thumps from outside his room.

He carefully opened the door, and scanned the hallway for any one else, but only the two inanimate bodies slumped on the floor near his door were there.  He quickly scanned them for any injuries, but they were both fine.  Propping them up upon a nearby bench took a little strength and time, but it wouldn't do for some Healer to walk by them while they were on the ground and find out what happened before Neo could get out of Haven.

Neo paused to catch his breath before hurrying down the corridor as fast as his legs would carry him.

He reached Companion's Field in shorter time then he had hoped, and hastily slipped through the fence.  Amaro hadn't moved from the spot Neo had seen him in his window, and Neo approached cautiously.

Surely this Companion would remember him.  They were reputed to be as smart as humans . . . and he was going on that for his Gift working as well . . .

"Amaro?" he called in a voice barely above a whisper.  The lean Companion's head shot up in surprise, and beautiful sapphire eyes widened when they saw Neo, "Do you remember me?  I'm the boy you're . . . uh . . . play-bonding with." That was what Jhaspar had called it, right?  He sighed in relief when Amaro nodded after a tense moment of silence.

The Companion came closer at a slow rate, almost as if his legs were made of led.

"Amaro . . ." taking a deep breath, Neo steeled himself for what he was about to do, "I need you help." The eyes portrayed confusion now.

Without waiting for an answer-indeed, he'd have been surprised if Amaro had given one-Neo let the feeble barrier on his emotions break, and directed every desperate thought of his sister towards the being in front of him.

Amaro reared back in surprise, his eyes wide enough to show the whites surrounding his cerulean pupils.  Neo feared he had over done it for a moment, before Amaro came back to the ground, and swayed slightly upon his hooves, his head nearly touching the ground and his eyes closed.

"Do . . . do you see now, Amaro?  I _have _to get to her!  And you . . . you're the only one that can help me . . ." he pleaded after another moment of silence

_:I__ see . . .: Neo nearly jumped when Amaro answered him.  His voice was sad, but soothing at the same time.  Even if Neo knew it was wrong for Amaro to be talking to him when he wasn't a Herald, somehow . . . somehow it felt so _right_._

But he couldn't think of things like that now.  

"You will help me?" he asked, near begging.

_:I__ will bear you, Neoka, because your cause is just, and your heart is pure.  I will take you to Hardorn.  When do you wish to leave?: _

"As soon as possible.  Tonight, actually.  All I need is a set of Whites, so we won't be stopped in Valdemar _or _Hardorn.  I can get any necessary foodstuffs from one of those saddle packs Heralds have." Amaro lifted his head to look at Neo.

_:I__ will go to the stables and get one of the stable hands to saddle me.  Meet me back here as soon as you are ready . . .: Neo, who could barely believe his luck, nodded and strode as fast as his legs allowed him towards Herald's Collegium._

Amaro watched him go, before turning and heading towards the stables.  He hoped he knew what he was doing . . .

_It is a journey worth bearing someone not my own, _he thought as a stable boy caught sight of him waiting at the opening of the stalls, grinned, and rushed to gather his gear, _and perhaps this is why I have been forced to wait.  Perhaps after all this is through, I will Find my __Chosen__ . . . perhaps this is my Search._

***

Neo ignored the protesting of his muscles as he rushed towards the Herald's rooms.  The promise of finding his sister was enough to make him overlook any and all pain.

Reaching the first in a long row of rooms, Neo stopped, and gently reached out to find a dreaming mind inside.

He carefully opened the door and stepped inside, finding a lone Herald snoring away in his bed.  He didn't look much older then himself, and Neo quickly checked his wardrobe to see that they were tolerably well matched in size and girth.

Hastily adorning the uniform hurt a lot more then he had first suspected.  He kept from crying out only by biting his tongue.

By the time he was fully clothed and bundling up his Healing outfit, he was tasting blood.

Silently creeping past the still sleeping Herald, Neo rushed back down to Companion's Field.

Amaro was awaiting him.

_:There__ is water and preserves in my saddle pack.  And Way Stations have enough to keep you going when we stop.:_

"Stop?" Neo frowned, but Amaro continued before he could protest.

_:Even__ I cannot make the Border without resting.  I will not need to often, but the need is there.: Neo couldn't argue with that, so he resigned himself with a slight nod._

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.  Amaro snorted and turned himself so his left side faced Neo.

_:Are__ you?: _

As Neo mounted, neither noticed another Companion watching from a line of trees.

***

Menith came to groggily.  His head felt as if someone had just rapped it against a good stone wall for about a candlemark, and he gingerly felt for any lumps on the back of it.  Finding none, he sighed and tried to remember what had happened.

He had been talking with Neoka's Guard.  An elderly chap, with an easy smile and a friendly face.

He lay still unconscious a few feet away on the bench Menith also sat on.

Everything had been fine, until Menith felt the unmistakable presence of Neoka inside his head.  He had barely enough time to be surprised, before the boy did something, and he'd been knocked out cold.

But the tough old nut beside him was still out.  Why was he awake?

_:Forgive__ me, Chosen.: Hyatee said unexpectedly, __:It was my doing.:_

_:What__ . . . happened?: he glanced at the closed door of Neoka's room a little bitterly.  Why had the boy knocked his guards out? _

_:For__ a reason none suspected.: Hyatee answered his thought.  Menith blinked, and Hyatee sent him an image that nearly knocked him out again._

It was Neoka.  

And he was astride the Companion Jhaspar had introduced him to earlier.

Dressed in Whites.

And heading out the Gates into Haven.

_:What__ in all the gods does he think he's doing?!: Menith growled at Hyatee as he got to his feet and rushed down the hallway._

_:I__ do not know.  I did not see them until they were preparing to leave.: when Menith made it to Companion's Field, Hyatee was waiting for them._

_:They__ should be nearing the Gates by now.  They were not running while they left, but I got the impression that they would be running soon.: Menith nodded and swung onto his Companion's bare back._

Hyatee jumped into a momentum that nearly jarred Menith out of his seat, but years of the exact same thing kept him on.  He wrapped a fist around Hyatee's mane and held on as hard as he could.

They saw their quarry in no time.

Hyatee was right.  They weren't running.  But they weren't walking either.

Amaro's pace was just above a trot, but it was a faster trot then Hyatee could reach.  Fortunately Hyatee was not trotting, and Amaro was not galloping, and Menith was upon them before they had reached the Gates.

"And just _where _do you think you are going, boy?" he demanded, as Hyatee pulled ahead and rounded upon them, blocking Amaro's way.  The other Companion snorted and tossed his head in surprise, and Neoka clutched at the reins, looking at Menith with something close to horror.

"I'll tell you where you're going," Menith continued, before the Blue could answer, "straight back to the House of Healing, that's where." Hyatee advanced almost menacingly upon Amaro, but the other Companion stood his ground.

"Get out of our way, Herald." Neoka said suddenly, narrowing his eyes at Menith.

Menith glared back.

"I'll do no such thing.  Just what foolishness are you up to, Neoka?!  What do you think you're doing, riding away in the middle of the night, dressed in Whites no less!" he demanded.  Neoka bit his lip, but his eyes looked anything but cowed.

"To Hardorn." He said.  Menith blinked.

"H . . . Hardorn?" Neoka nodded briskly.

"I've an obligation, Herald.  And you will _not _keep me from it!" the threat hung between them, and Menith knew with bitter certainty that Neo could and would use the same knock-out trick he had used before, if Menith did not comply.

"What must you do, Neoka?  Why must you go to Hardorn?" he asked, deciding to ignore the threat for now.

Neoka looked a bit surprised.

"I . . . my sister . . ." he trailed off, eyes misting over.  Menith's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You've a sister?  Why is she the reason you have to go to Hardorn?"

"She . . . she's being held prisoner . . . by the Mage who's causing the sickness." Menith stared at the boy in surprise.

"What?  What else do you know, Neoka?" he ordered.  The Blue shook his head.

"That's all I need to know." He replied.  Menith mentally chewed on this new information.  It didn't tell him much, but he could make assumptions . . .

"I'll tell the King of this, Neoka.  He will send Heralds over to deal with it-" it wasn't exactly true.  He had no idea whether the King would act upon this or not, but he had to give Neoka another option.

But the boy shook his head.

"I . . . I don't want you as a part of this, Herald . . ." Neo was silently thinking of what else Vannasa had told him . . . the part about the Mage wanting something from the Heralds . . . he might not like them, but he knew they were vital to the Kingdom.  He couldn't drag them into things if it could be handled on his own.

"Damn it, Neoka!" Menith burst, "You can't just go riding of to Hardorn!  What are you going to do once you get there?!" 

Neoka shook his head after a moment's hesitation.

"I'll think about that later . . ."

"You'll think about it now!  A Mage is not something lightly fought, boy!  How can you rescue your sister if you're killed?" Neoka once again shook his head.

"The . . . the Gift . . ."

"Is useless if you can't control it." Menith countered.  The Blue lowered his gaze, "Come back to the Collegium, Neoka," Menith continued, a little more gently, "we'll work things out there."

Neoka remained silent.

"My sister needs me." He said suddenly, looking back up with determined fire in his eyes, "I will not abandon her."

"It's not abandoning-" Menith began, but a sudden violent lash of power against his Shields stopped him.

"Out of the way, Herald!" he cried once more.  Menith shook his head to clear it from the hit, and firmly told Hyatee to keep from moving.

"You can't go alone-"

Another lash of power, this time digging into his Shields until he thought he would break.

"Don't do this, Menith.  Don't force me to . . . to . . ." the power retreated, and Menith shook a little atop Hyatee.  Neoka shook his head once more.

"I'll go with you." Menith finally managed, to the shock of the Blue.

"You . . . you'll what?" Neoka asked.  Menith connected eyes with him.

"I'm going with you."

Authors note:  Hup!  9 and ¼ pages!  See what I meant about more interesting?  And guess what!  Only a few more chapters until this journey ends!  A relief for many, I'm sure *applause and overjoyed cheers* and please don't forget to review!!!

Etcetera-cat: *buys a flag from you* I'm in that corner as well *glares at all other corners* and it's really lucky to have the author on your side!  ^_^

Silver Dragonfly: Not that this has anything to do with anything else, but dragonflies are some of my very favorite bugs.  And I agree very much with you.  Friends _do _have their fair share of work, but Neoka doesn't have that many right now . . . *pats Neo's head* and I'm not a very good one at that *insane laughter*

Ola: Ah, Greg.  Sniffing around is what he does best, I'm afraid, though getting in trouble seems to be another talent of his.  And Neo getting Chosen?  *points to corner with author and etcetera-cat in it, waving "Choose the boy before we beat you, Amaro!" flags* we've got a special spot for people like us!  *drags ola in*

Trina Ti: Thank you very much!  And really, the only reason why the mind was destroyed was because the enemy power formed around Neo's attacks, which damaged the playing field, which was the farmer's mind itself.  Hope that makes sense!  And I hope this was fast enough.  Fastest I've written so much, anyway.

ElvenRanger: I agree, but it leads to better things, I assure you.  Glad you liked the chapter, anyway *smiles* and when was the one time when your spider-sense went wrong?

Matt: Grays and Blues are occupied with each other right now and Neo's on his way out of the country.  But Amaro will have his hooves full protecting him from other things soon enough, I assure you *wink wink, nudge nudge*

Magdellin: Thank you very much for the comment and critique.  I'm well aware of my next to nil spelling ability, which leaches into my grammar "skill" anytime it pleases, but I'm glad you weren't badly hindered by it while reading, and I'm even more happy you're reading it at all!

Fiery frost: *scratches head* well, interesting is a pretty neutral word.  I hope you _like the story at least.  Sorry if you don't._

Herald Mistylenna: Glad I cleared that up!  Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Badgerwolf: Hup, sorry about that!  Review responses at the end now.  Thank you very, very much for liking the story, and rooting for Neo.  *points to rapidly filling corner of "Amaro Choosing Neo" flag-wavers* wana join?

LeopardDance: "erase" is a good word.  It might not be as exact in this instance as "demolished" is, but it's still a good word.  And the Hawkbrothers . . . they're not in this story because I don't know what I would do with them if they were!  They're such a complex civilization, and they've got their hands full with cleansing the Pelagir Hills, that they wouldn't have much to offer in a plot like "Blue to White" has.

Banadar: I hope you didn't read your eyes raw, because here's another update!  Almost as long as the last one too!  Hope you're not disappointed in chapters to come, or this one!

              _            __                  _


	7. A bump in the road

Authors note: Don't own Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar.  Do own story.  That covers most of it, I think?

By the time Menith had convinced Neo that he could _not travel to Hardorn without a fresh change of Whites, his own Companion saddled, and his own preserves packed and ready, the sky was already recovering from its sleep.  A blue so soft it could barely be discernable from gray filled Neo's eyes as he watched the sky brighten, awaiting Menith in Companion's Field._

He had been forced to return to the Collegium and wait for Menith as the Herald went to prepare himself, and even though the wait couldn't have been as long as Neo felt it was, he was still squirming in impatience.

_:We__ could leave right now.  Hyatee would not be able to catch up to me.  We have raced before.  I know how fast I would need to go to keep distance between us.: Neo blinked in surprise and looked to his right, where Amaro stood, watching the sky lighten as well._

He had thought the Companion would speak as little as possible to him.  After all, he wasn't his Chosen.

He sighed, though why he did so didn't have a thing to do with that last thought . . . or so he vehemently told himself; and turned back to sky-gazing, tucking his knees up against his chest where he sat.

"I think Menith is already ahead of us in that." He glanced at Menith's Companion, who stood near the Collegium, watching both of them with wary sapphire eyes, "We would not get far without running into Hyatee, and I doubt you could overcome him in a fight," he glanced once more at Hyatee, who was much more muscular then the arrow-like Amaro, "besides, it can't hurt to have a Herald on such a mission as this."

_:Very__ well.: Amaro nodded with a soft bob of his head.  Neo dared one quick look at the Companion, a very odd thought racing through him._

"You . . . you would bear me all the way into Hardorn?  Alone?" of course, with all the guilt and desperation he had Projected to Amaro, the Companion had little other choice.  But he needed to know if Amaro really _did _think his cause was worthy of bearing one not a Herald.

Not that he was thinking of letting the Companion alter his decision.  Neo needed the fastest way of getting to Hardorn, and now that he had it, he wasn't about to let it go.

_:I__ already agreed to that, did I not?: Amaro said, a little evasively, though his tone was gentle.  Neo hesitated, then nodded._

"Yes . . . you did." Why should he care, anyway?  Why should he care if Amaro _wanted to help him or not?_

_Has to do something with this Gift . . . making me think things I shouldn't . . ._

It was a weak excuse, and something in him violently rejected any such notion, but he didn't argue with himself.  He didn't dare delve into such odd thoughts.  Not when he had so much on his mind already.

Amaro's head lifted to look at Menith's Companion, ears peaked and swiveled forward.

_:Your__ mentor comes now.: and sure enough, Menith exited the Collegium, mounted his Companion, and came over to them._

"Ready?" he asked, checking his saddle quickly.  Neo nodded and went to Amaro's side.

A strange feeling swept through him, and he hesitated before putting his foot in the stirrup.  Why was he getting tingles in the pit of his stomach at the thought of riding Amaro?

_This is no time to be thinking of Companions, _he told himself fiercely, _think of Vannasa, think of where you're going . . . and keep your damn mind off your mount!_

***

Amaro was about to ask Neoka what he was hesitating for, when a soft and sudden throbbing in the back of his mind made him forget all about the Blue.

That wonderful heartbeat, the Call that he had feared gone forever, had returned!  He barely kept himself from dancing in joy.

Neoka apparently got over whatever had been stopping him from mounting, and swung onto the saddle.  Amaro settled on tossing his head once to celebrate, before leading the way out of Companion's Field.

***

The silver tinkling of Companion's hooves upon the cobbled road leading out of Haven was enough to sooth Neo into a very thoughtful state, and think he did.

The very first and foremost thing on his mind was Vannasa, which was of no surprise to him.  His frantic need to be at her side, to take away her fear, was as all-consuming as it had been the moment he had awoken from their conversation, but now that he was on his way to her, there was a strange quietness in him.

He was not disillusioned at what was awaiting him in Hardorn.  In Valdemar, everyone knew what a Mage could do.  There was an endless supply of horror-tales told to children about the power Mages wielded, and if the mind-sickness was Mage-born, as Jhaspar thought it was, then Neo could only hope he had enough strength to hold his ground against the Mage.

Briefly, his mind wandered through the information Vannasa had given him.

_The "Web of Light" . . . _he mused silently, _I . . . I think I remember it from a ballad once sung . . ._

But in Court, Neo was so bored that he paid little attention to Bards, and even less to the lyrics of their songs, and in Court was the only possible place Neo could have heard a song about Heralds.  He didn't make it a habit to search out Bards or minstrels for entertainment, he had only entered taverns when necessity called for it, and had never stayed long enough in one to listen to ballads.

But still . . . the lingering feeling of memory attached to the words "Web of Light" refused to leave him . . .

_Perhaps Menith knows something of it . . . he is, after all, a Herald . . ._

***

Menith took a deeply refreshing breath of the frigid morning air.  He was growing older, and knew that Hyatee was as well.  The King wouldn't be able to get too many more Circuit Rides out of either of them.

He was always looking forward to retirement, while he was out of Haven; but when he was sitting around, recuperating from Circuit Riding, he thought it to be boring as hell.  He didn't know how Kara got through her days at the Collegium.

Not that she _couldn't ride Circuits; it was just that she had a rather eventful job at the Collegium.  She was in charge of the Trainees, and with such a job came the requirement to stay __with the Trainees._

But Menith couldn't live more than a few months with those manic children, before he was begging to be let out of the capitol once more.

Hyatee stayed uncharacteristically silent beneath him, trotting briskly to keep up with Amaro's rather slow pace.

Menith found himself admiring the other Companion's swiftness, even with the relaxed strides his long legs were taking.

Even though Hyatee was faster and more relaxed in his gait than any usual horse, this Amaro made him seem like a bumbling colt . . .

_:Keep__ on comparing us, __Chosen__, and see where it gets you!: Hyatee growled at him, making him chuckle._

_:A__ little jealous, are we?: Menith asked, grinning at Hyatee's ears._

_:You__ thought it yourself, not too long ago,: Hyatee reminded him, swiveling an ear back towards him, __:We're both getting old.  Can't keep up with these young pups anymore.:_

Menith overlooked the fact that Hyatee couldn't have kept up with Amaro even if _he _was still a "young pup," the Companion could only take so much teasing before he would make Menith's ride very uncomfortable.

He shifted in his saddle, sending a glance to the Blue.  Neoka might not be aware of it, but lines of pain began to creep along the boy's face.  The sedatives Healer Y'von had given him _would be wearing off right when their journey began._

Menith knew in his bones that Neoka would not agree to return to the Collegium to get some drugs for his headache, no matter how unbearable it got.

_If only he had a few more lessons in him . . . his Reaction Headache wouldn't be so bad . . ._

_:So__, put a few more lessons in him, Chosen.: Hyatee suggested.  Menith blinked.  Why shouldn't he give Neoka more Gift schooling?  It would pass the time in the saddle a lot faster than silence would.  Menith and the Companions would have to be hounded by echoes of Neoka's pain.  And Neoka himself would have a lot less trouble._

And he would stand a better chance against whatever was awaiting them in Hardorn . . .

"Neoka," he began, startling the boy, "your Gift lessons are still ongoing.  You can exercise your mind in the saddle as well as you could in bed.  Especially atop a Companion.  Amaro won't let you fall when you're concentrating."

Neoka stared at him for a moment, before nodding briskly.  He didn't say anything, but seemed to turn inwards for a moment.  Menith let him think.

***

_No rest for the weary . . . _Neo kept the sigh trying to escape his throat purely mental.  He had been forming the question about the Web of Light in his head when Menith had sprung the news about his Gift lessons.

Not that he was angry about it.  In fact, he was hoping Menith would give him some tips about how to use his Gift on an offensive basis.  But the headache threatening to pound into him after a few exercises was enough to make him wince.

_Best not think about it, _he told himself, _just ask the Herald what you were going to ask him.  Worry about the Gift later._

He cleared his throat, drawing Menith's attention to him.

"I . . . um . . ." he stumbled in his words, "I was wondering . . ."

Amaro's ears flickered backwards, and a light blush spread across Neo's cheeks.  Since when had he begun having trouble talking with people?  Sure he wasn't exactly social, but he'd never been bad at finding out what he wanted.

"Herald," he began firmly, "what is the Web of Light?"

There.  Harder to get out than he had thought, but he'd said it.  He glanced at Menith, who looked completely shocked.

"Web of Light?" he repeated.

_Damn, _Neo's heart dropped to his borrowed white boots, _he doesn't know . . ._

"It's the connection between all Heralds," Menith continued.  Neo turned his head to gaze at Menith in confusion.

"Connection?  What type of connection?" Menith seemed to struggle for the right words for a moment.

"Well . . . when another Herald dies . . . every other Herald knows.  That's part of the Web." Neo blinked.

How could the Mage holding Vannasa use something like that? 

Unless . . .

"Does it . . .  is it like a link between all Heralds?  Like a channel?" he asked.

Menith blinked.

"I suppose you could call it that . . . yes, a link.  Every Herald is part of the Web.  It's a very strong defense against most everything."

Neo felt his heart lighten at Menith's words.  A strong defense against everything . . . "everything" included Mages.

So he had no need to worry about bringing down the very heart of Valdemar, right?  He had no reason to give a second thought to the possible destruction of the protectors of the kingdom, right?

Right.

_:Why__ all these questions?: Amaro asked unexpectedly.  Neo kept himself from jumping out of the saddle . . . but just barely._

"No reason . . ." he replied.  Menith turned to stare at him.

"Who are you talking to?" Neo looked away uncomfortably.

"Amaro," He said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

Menith was about to say something, but all that escaped his mouth was a short "Am-" before he cut himself off.

Neo glanced back to see him frowning at his Companion's head, and the Companion-Hyatee, he remembered-turning his head to fix Menith with one sapphire eye.

They were 'talking,' and suddenly, unexplainably, Neo felt a surge of jealousy rush through him.

He fixed his dark gaze on the road ahead of them.

It just wasn't fair.  Heralds led a tough life, every sensible Valdemaran knew that, and Neo had always thought that the reward for such a life, was the Herald's steed.

The fastest beast in the entire land, and most probably, the entire world, would be more than enough recompense for a life of fighting.  But Companions went an extra mile.  They offered . . . companionship.  They talked with their Heralds, were as smart as their Heralds.  

It was what he wanted, Neo realized with a strong flash of despair and disgust, he wanted that connection . . . ever since he had been left to fend for himself, torn from his sister's side, he'd been missing that bond.  

"Are you up for a lesson, Neoka?" Menith asked, making Neo start in surprise.  Menith glanced discreetly at him, "Hyatee says that you could do with a lesson right about now."

Neo hesitated, then shrugged.  As long as Menith didn't ask him to go over the Border, into Hardorn again, he wasn't averse to learning.

"Right," Menith said, catching the shrug and interpreting it as an affirmative answer, "now, I want you to trance again.  You remember how you did it the first time?  The time we asked you to Scry?"

Neo nodded, feeling his throat close.  Was Menith going to ask him to Scry again?

The very threatening promise of pain made him pause, and look at Menith suspiciously.

"What kind of lesson are you planning, Herald?" he asked.  Menith smiled lightly.

"One which will answer your question about the Web of Light a little more clearly than I did," the Herald answered evasively.  Neo blinked, before sighing, and slipping into a trance state.

It wasn't hard.  He remembered how he had done it the first time, and merely repeated his actions.

_:Good__,: Menith Mind spoke him, and Neo got the feeling that he was trancing as well, _:Now, I want you to look at ___me._: __

Neo knew what he meant by a strange feeling that accompanied Menith's words.  It was like a wordless list of directions on just how "looking" with the mind was done, was being passed between them.

Neo did not dwell on that though, and followed the directions.

Immediately, he was staring at something like a very complicated maze of channels.  He was floating above it, staring down at the crisscrossing labyrinth that seemed to scream "Menith."

Neo couldn't have described it, but he knew that he was currently _looking_ at Menith's mind.

The maze was chaos and logic in one, with some lines running straight and unbarred clear towards the center, some blocked by strange, glowing debris, and some seeming to come from out of nowhere, or at least, certainly from outside Menith's mind.

_:Now__, Neoka, I want you to find the white channels,: Menith instructed him.  Neo instantly knew what he was supposed to be looking for.  While some lines were dark and shrouded, others were as bright as the sun._

There were only two large ones that Neoka could see, one running straight through the other lines, and stopping at the center of the maze.  The other ran right through the center . . . and kept going.

_:That__ one is the Web,: Menith informed him, __:It connects me to every other Herald, which is why it doesn't stop at my center.  The other one is Hyatee.:_

Neo shook his head mentally in disbelief.

_:How__ . . . can I see this?: never had he heard of anything like what he was doing.  Even in History class, when the instructor went into Gifts long-since dead Heralds had, he had never mentioned just __what the Gifts looked like._

Because, besides the two blazing white channels, there were others that stayed only in Menith's mind.  And Neo _knew _what these were.

These were Gifts.  These were powers that Menith could wield.

Some where wider and brighter than others, but there were countless amounts of them.  Most of them were blocked, and didn't shine at all . . . but there were a few . . . a few that shone with power.

_:I__ don't know how __you can do anything.  In fact, I'm a bit surprised you're seeing my mind at all.  It takes people with Mind Gifts a while to hone their senses into a Sight like yours.  It only shows you how powerful you are . . . and could be.:_

Neo wondered if his mind was anything like he was seeing now, all dark and glowing lines, with a few outside channels as well.

He shook off the feeling, and turned back to the lesson.

He examined the Web of Light channel as thoroughly as he could.

It didn't seem to have any weaknesses.  The flow of light was thick and even, and Neo couldn't think of how a Mage could use it against the Heralds . . .

Frowning, he went over his memories of the past minds he had entered.

The sickness he had eradicated from them –save the farmer- had spread out amongst the mind.  It had clouded everything, and Neo could not remember seeing channels like the ones before him now.

Was _that _what the sickness did?  Smother the channels until the body was completely useless?

And if so, how could the Web of Light defend against something like that?

A cold shiver raced through him, and he stared at Menith's mind-link with Hyatee.  Surely with such a connection, if Menith were to contract the sickness, it would leech onto Hyatee in no time at all . . .

He switched his gaze over to the Web.

_And that, too, would pass the sickness on to others . . . it is too large and unblocked to do anything except just that . . ._

With a sudden lurch of panic, Neo realized he had just answered his unvoiced question of how the Mage could use the Web against the Heralds.

_He's . . . he's going to contaminate them . . . he's going to give the sickness to just one, and then wait while it spreads to all the other Heralds . . . gods!_

His head felt like he had just smashed it against a wall when he reeled back into it, and his breaths came in small, sporadic pants.

The Mage's plan was as ingenious as it was atrocious.  Neo might not like the Heralds and their shared foolish intrepidness, but he understood why they had to be so.  He also understood that what the Mage was planning could not be accomplished.

"Menith," he choked out, but the Herald cut him off.

"Not another word, boy.  I should never have let you exercise that damnable Gift away from the Healers when you get so bloody sick after doing so," Menith was obviously furious with himself, and Neo felt Amaro pick up the speed beneath him.

_:We're__ stopping at the nearest Way Station,: the Companion informed him, _:Please try to stay conscious until then.:__

Neo could not form an answer as his hands clutched the pummel of the saddle and the reigns.  He had long since clamped his eyes shut, but he could feel Menith barely a hands-breadth apart from him.

He had only a moment to wonder on what a normal horse would have done, running that close to another, with no direction from it's rider, before he was kept very busy fighting against the enclosing darkness.

***

Menith cursed his luck for what must have been the thousandth time.  They had reached the Way Station about a candlemark ago, and Menith had-somehow-gotten Shields around the boy, who was currently unconscious on the one bed in the Station.

He sighed and ran a tired hand over his face.

_:Alright__ Hyatee,: he connected with his Companion wearily, _:what's the plan?:__

_:I__ have not been trying to make one,: his Companion responded, _:but we could talk about that once you get the time to unsaddle us.:__

Menith swore once more, exiting the Station immediately, and frowning at the awaiting Companions.  They hadn't moved from the spot where they'd pulled up in front of the Way Station, and sweat gleamed on Hyatee's hide.

Amaro, he was surprised to note, looked completely fine.  As if he hadn't even walked the distance to the Station.

_Just how fast _can _this Companion go?_

He shook his head and put his mind on other things.

_:So__,: he began, unsaddling Hyatee first, __:you've no idea what we're going to do once inside Hardorn?:_

_:None__ whatsoever.: Hyatee responded cheerfully.  Menith sent him a dry glance._

"Well, that's reassuring." He said aloud, more to fill the silence of the slowly approaching morning than for anything else.

Birds would begin their chatter in about a candlemark, but Menith hoped he would be asleep by then.

He rubbed Hyatee down briskly, before turning to Amaro.

"I'd like to know how you do that," he said to the Companion, and elaborated when Amaro sent him a curious glance, "How you didn't even sweat from such a run."

Amaro snorted and tossed his head in a distinctly arrogant fashion.

_:He__ says it would take more than that to make him__ sweat.: Hyatee said, clear amusement of the younger Companion's pride in his "voice."_

_:Did__ he now?: Menith grinned, sharing his Companion's amusement._

Amaro sent them both superior looks, and seemed as if he were about to say something to Hyatee, when his sapphire gaze locked on the Station.

Menith followed Amaro's gaze, and gasped sharply.

Neoka leaned heavily against the doorframe, exhaustion written all over him, but his sharp eyes shouting determination.

"We're not far enough away from Haven . . ." he said, with a little difficulty.

Menith was at first shocked, then furious at the Blue.

"The Companions rid themselves to the bone to get this far, boy, so it's far enough!  Now get back inside!"

Neo shook his head, stumbling out of the Station.

"No . . . they're going to send Heralds after us . . ." he said.

Menith stared at him blankly for a brief moment.  Did Neoka have the Gift of Foresight as well?

"How do you know?" he demanded.  Neoka glanced at Amaro.

"I stole one of their mounts.  How could they _not come?" each passing second was costing the Blue dearly, and it showed on his face._

Beside Menith, Amaro stepped forward, and snorted into the boy's stolen Whites.

_:I__ came of my own free will.: the Companion said.  Menith was too absorbed with Neoka to note that he heard Amaro._

Neoka shook his head once more, "You didn't-" he began weakly.

_:I__ did_.: _Amaro insisted, _:If your cause had not been for your sisters sake, then no amount of Projection would have made me bear you.:__

A fleeting look of relief and gratitude swept across Neoka's face, but the sharp eyes kept their stubborn darkness.

"They will still come . . ." he said, turning his gaze to Menith, who narrowed his own amber eyes.

"Didn't you hear me?  Amaro might not show it, but that was a long ride we just had!  Even if the Heralds_ come after us within the hour, they wont make it this far."_

Another fleeting emotion crossed Neoka's face, this time, one of hope, before it was buried under a mask.

"Still-"

"Oh, you'd better not be thinking of robbing me of sleep, boy!" Menith growled, marching towards the Blue and shoving him inside the Way Station, "The Companions aren't going one inch farther until they and I have had our rest.  So that leaves you with little option."

Neoka looked as if he was about to argue, but stopped himself.  He sighed, and walked to the bed, a resigned but indomitable look on his face.

"Alright," he relented, turning towards the fire.

"Good.  Now, get some sleep," Menith grumbled, going back outside to finish with Amaro's tack.

Neoka watched him go, before sliding onto the bed, and closing his eyes in reluctant sleep.

***

Companions Field was a sight to behold in the early morning light.  The magic of the land was unmistakable as mist swirled between trees, layering the ground in a damp, milky shroud.

The sunrise was well underway, tinting the fog with ginger radiance.  One Companion stood in the middle of the colored vapor, her ancient sapphire eyes whirling with wisdom and beauty.

Her silver hide had not lost its shine in her old age, and the muscles beneath her coat were still lean and spoke of days long since past, when _she _was the fastest one in the Field.

She had passed that trait on to her son, Amaro, along with the rather large amount of pride that came with it.

She watched the sun ascend from its slumber, as she did every day, and felt the rays of its light pierce the surrounding fog, and heat her slim body.

Normally, she was not alone in the tradition.  Her son was usually by her side, watching calmly and quietly, his own eyes churning with excitement for the coming day.

But Amaro had not come today.  She would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't worried, but she was hoping that he had finally left the Field in Search of his Chosen.

Inwardly, she knew that was not the reason he was with her.  They had a close bond, and had always been close.  She knew he would not have left the Field on Search without telling her.

From her left, a body immerged out of the mist.  It was too large to be her son, and the "taste" of the Companion's mind was not familiar . . . nor was it normal. 

It was the unmistakable "taste" of the Grove Born, a being she had never spoken to before.

Respectfully, she lowered her head when he came up beside her.

_:Enjoying__ the sunrise, Emery?: he greeted her pleasantly. _

_:Indeed__, Grove Born.  It is . . . a sort of ritual, I suppose.: she answered.  He nodded knowingly._

_:But__ you are not normally alone.  Where is Amaro?: she shifted uncomfortably._

_:He__ did not join me today.: she said simply.  _

_:Hmm__ . . . he does not strike me as the type to miss a ritual.: he commented.  She shook her head slowly._

_:No__ . . . no he's never missed one before . . . I am sure it is all for good reason, though.: he nodded again._

_:So__, you are not concerned?: Emery barely kept herself from snorting._

_:I__ am nothing but __concerned,: she admitted, feeling his amusement, __:I will just have to wait and see where he has gone off to.:_

He watched the rest of the sunrise with her, silently, until the mist had cleared from the Field, and other Companions were rousing themselves out of their slumber.

_:Do__ not worry about your son, Emery.: he said, by way of goodbye, _:I've no doubt he can outrun anything the gods place in his path.:__

She grinned mentally, and agreed, before he disappeared into a line of trees to her right.

She knew what Carogan had said was true, but her unease had not faded.  Abruptly, she felt her Herald send a distinctly curious thought through their bond.

_:Yes__, Chosen?: Emery asked, turning her attention to her Heart-sister._

_:You__ are worried about something.: she answered immediately.  Emery grinned again.  Kara could be so perceptive sometimes.  It was one of the reasons she was head of the Trainees._

_:Amaro__ seems to be missing.: she informed her.  She felt Kara's surprise, and knew that if her Herald was in front of her, there wouldn't have been a single change in her expression.  Another thing Kara could do well was keep her face under control._

_:Missing__?  He's not in the Field?: Emery confirmed her Chosen's question with a soft, wordless affirmative.  Kara took only a moment more to think upon that, before concern welled up inside her, __:Don't worry, Heart-sister,: she cooed comfortingly, _:Amaro will be fine.:__

But both of them were worried now, and they could no more hide that from each other than they could anything else.

***

Healer Y'von walked down the corridor with green eyes sparking in fury.  She eyed the door no more than a few steps away, and angrily shoved it open.  Sitting calmly upon on of her couches, Herald Kara was slowly sipping a cup of _chava.  _

She glanced at Y'von with the patience of the gods, which only threw the Healer deeper into her anger.

"Where is he?" she demanded in a half-shout, pulling up short in front of the Herald.

Kara watched her silently, then put her steaming drink on the table beside her.

"Where is who?" she finally asked.

"Trainee Neoka, that's who!  He's gone!  Where did you take him?!  I didn't give anyone leave to remove him from my care.  He isn't fully Healed!" Y'von's eyes flashed dangerously, but Kara continued to gaze at her as if they were in the middle of a nice, boring conversation on the weather.

"Thank you for reporting this, Healer.  You can be sure that we will look into it," Y'von was clearly dismissed, but that had never stopped the Healer from voicing her thoughts before, and it certainly didn't now.

"See that you do," she all but growled at Kara, "and see that he is returned to me before the day is through."

And she was out the door before Kara could answer.  She stood in the corridor for a brief moment, breathing hard, and all her thoughts focused on her missing patient.

_Things like this just don't happen!  He shouldn't have enough strength to open one eye, much less walk out of the Healers Collegium!_

***

Jhaspar stood outside Menith's rooms, staring at the door and thinking about how he could possibly stop the other Herald from impaling him on a sword the moment he told him where he was to be sent.

_Best get it over with quickly . . ._

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, before knocking on the door and opening it, not waiting for an invitation.

"Herald Menith, you are to . . ." he trailed off in mid-sentence, gazing around Menith's room.

No Herald was glaring back at him.

The room was empty.

_Damn it! _He cursed silently, _I don't have time to chase him around the Collegium!_

_:And__ even if you did __have time,: came Carogan's voice unexpectedly, __:I would not advise it.:_

_:He's__ to be sent to the Border.  If I _don't tell him, who will?: _he asked, exiting the empty room and closing the door behind him._

_:I__ am not insinuating that someone else tell him.  I only mean that chasing him around the Collegium would not be a good plan.: Carogan retorted.  Jhaspar caught the taste of double-meaning in his Companion's Mindvoice as he walked down the hall._

_:Why__ not?: he asked._

_:Because__ it seems Menith is not in __the Collegium.: Carogan answered.  Jhaspar nearly tripped over his own feet. _

_:Well__, where is he?!: _

_:I__ do not know.  I only know that this morning, I came across Amaro's mother, who was distressed because her son was missing.  I searched the Field for him, but only to find another _Companion gone.  Hyatee.  And if Hyatee is gone-:__

_:Then__ so is Menith . . .: Jhaspar finished for him despairingly, _:Where . . . _why _did they go?  And why is Amaro missing as well?:__

Before Carogan could answer, Jhaspar was bombarded with another Mindvoice, one almost trembling with anxiety.

_:Jhaspar__!: it was Kara, and she was close to a panic, _:He's gone!:__

_:What__?  Kara, calm down.  Who's gone?: he gave up trying to walk, and leaned against the wall.  It was a good thing he did, because Kara's next words would definitely have made him fall._

_:Neoka__!  The Blue with the Mind Gift!:_

Authors note: Ho hum!  And the plot . . . remains without thickening!  Hmm . . . raise your review hands if you like Collegium scenes more than Menith and Neoka scenes!  *nervous laugh when everyone ignores her* oh, I'm getting that a lot recently . . . 

Anywho, the next chapter will have a little action in the mix . . . er, well, it might, if you consider Amaro running really fast an action scene.  *makes shooing motions* go, go and review!

Patricia – "Awesomeness"?  Yay!  Thank you very much!

Emerald Flame – Very good ideas, and I might well use them!  Thank you!

Lottie – You check for updates _every time you log on?!  Geez!  You know, I could e-mail you when future chaps come in.  Save you some time and disappointment ^_^._

Dream Keeper – You are in the right for three guesses!  I'm just not gona tell ya which ^_- . . . Awe, I hope I'm not becoming predictable . . .

Europa - *grins* yeah, _interesting possibility, that.  Oh, I'm leading you on.  Please don't beat me when it all becomes clear!_

No name – I'm glad you like it!  Here you are, 'nother chap!

Magdellin – Away from the net? *gasps at very notion* anywho, thanx you for reviewing!

Q Jackson - *hugs* thank you for being truthful!  

Lady Silver Dragon – You really are a good reviewer!  Right in both character accounts, and welcome to the small but growing "Amaro and Neo are idiots and they belong together" club!

Ola – Greg will have a few paragraphs to himself in upcoming chapters.  It's up to him to calm the Trainees down, after all . . . ^_^ Amaro is totally centered on finding his Herald, the silly boy.  He figures he might as well have an adventure while he waits!

Moonlightrider – This is after any books in ML's series so far.  A couple monarchs after Selenay.  And you most certainly _can join us!  *hands over a flag*_

Trina Ti – Thank you, and you're welcome!  I think Amaro and Neo would make a great pairing as well.  *pales* every _minute_?!  I'm having trouble updating every month!!!

Badgerwolf – Thank you very much!  And . . . *grins* I'm keeping Amaro's Choosing up in the air because I've got a really great twist coming up for him and his Herald . . . *hugs twist* something I'm rather proud of.  ^_^

Sheshira – Oh flattery will get you everywhere!  *blushes* thank you _very much for the rather successful ego boost . . . *downplaying incident* I annoyed my teachers with my strutting . . . and when they finally asked me what I could possibly be so proud of, I showed them a printed copy of your review. Er . . . they started laughing, but only because their idiots!  *grumbles* Anywho, thanks a million again!_

Konitsu – Ah, not too fond of cliff hangers?  *thinks* did I leave one last chapter?  *shrugs* unless you meant "deeply evil" as in "grammatically and letter-wise challenged" then I completely agree.  And thank you!

Herald Mistylenna – I'm glad you're enjoying it!  At least your fingers don't suffer . . . *looks down at fallen hands* and thanks for reviewing!

Silver Dragonfly – Yep, they're a bit dense when it comes to the opposite species.

ElvenRanger – Only a few more chapters to go!  _If Neoka is to be Chosen – note I say __if – then it wont be as long a wait as people seem to think.  Aw, one of those incidents, huh?  Well, all I do in one of those problems is up-play it as much as possible.  People are less inclined to believe it was an accident on your part and probably wont laugh at it as much.  Or they'll think you're crazy.  Can go either way.  ^_^_

Goddess of insanity and pauru – Ah, a review from you is like a . . . hallmark card!  *nervous laugh at use of rather sleazy line from Grease* so please don't limit yourself!

Etcetera-cat – Hope this was out fast enough, and that you still like the story!  Personally, I think I'm getting worse as I go along.  *helps hand out flags* Amaro's being a bit dense, isn't he? *hits Companion over the head* though . . . I might be a little unfair . . . as I'm really keeping him from doing anything in the Choosing department . . . *goes down under Companion hooves and cloud of dust* er . . . hope you enjoyed the chapter!!! 


	8. A Day in the Life of, er, Several People...

Greg stood hesitantly outside the Healers Collegium, speckled blue eyes half-lidded against the slowly rising sun.  It would be noon in two candlemarks, more or less, but his friends would be much too busy with their malice towards Blues to miss him if he didn't show up for lunch.

_:Oh__, go on before I die of curiosity,: Surra prodded him in his mind.  He sighed and glanced to his left, where his mischievous Companion stood watching him from behind the fence around Companion's Field.  _:I___ didn't ask half the Companions where the new Trainee was just to watch you fidget.:_

_:I'm not fidgeting,: _he responded, _:I'm contemplating.:_

_:Mmm__,: _she retorted, _:I wish you wouldn't.  You always get those dreadful headaches when you think too much.  Or at all, for that matter . . .:_

He stuck his tongue out at her, and knew she saw him by the musical whicker of amusement.

_:Alright, alright, I'm going!: _he said, once she sent a rather humorous image of her jumping the fence and forcing him into the House of Healing with a rather rude kick to his behind.

He shook his head and silently asked the gods _why he had been paired with an obvious madwoman in Companion-guise, before slipping through the doors and closing them behind him . . . just incase Surra decided waiting outside was too much for her to handle, and resolved to join him inside._

After a brief, aimless stroll through the main hall, glancing inside open rooms, he caught sight of a Healer Trainee with her arms full of bandages coming towards him.

She was very small, with a quiet air about her that he didn't want to disturb, but he needed to know which room the Trainee was being held.

"Excuse me," he came up to her and smiled genially.  She squeaked in surprise, brown eyes widening from behind the rolls of bleached cloth, "but would you know where the newly Chosen Trainee is?"

She blinked at him, uncomprehendingly.  Greg realized he might have been a bit vague in his description.

"Um . . . he's had his Gift awakened recently . . . it's very powerful . . ." he hadn't thought he was helping his portrayal any, but the quiet girl's eyes were now glittering in understanding.

"He's . . . sorry, but I do not know . . . he's been missing since this morning," she said, her voice barely above a murmur.  Greg blinked.

"Missing?  As in . . . gone?" he asked unthinkingly.  The Healer Trainee nodded, apologized again, and then slipped into a room to his right.

_But . . . where is he?  Where could he have gone?_

_:Well__?: Surra popped into his mind, __:Have you found him?:_

Greg scratched his head in puzzlement, before turning on his heel and heading out of the House of Healing.

_:He's__ . . . missing.: he reported dazedly._

_:Missing__?  As in gone?: she asked, and Greg's grin at their similar train of thought was short-lived, but warm despite his confusion._

_:Gone__ . . . since this morning,: he informed her._

_:But__ . . . where__?: he shook his head at her question._

_:We__ need to find out where the Companion that Chose him is, Surra.  Find the Companion, and you'll more or less find the Herald,: he said as he opened the door he had entered by and found her steady sapphire gaze upon him from the same spot he had left her at._

_:No__ one seems to know who__ the Companion is, much less where to find them,: she replied, as he walked to her.  _:I___ asked just about every Companion in the Field, and no one knew what I was talking about.:_

Greg scowled as he reached forward and tugged gently at her iridescent silver forelock.

_:What__ do you mean, "just about every Companion?"  Who didn't you ask?: she pulled her head away from his light grasp, and expertly snatched a loose part in his Trainee uniform, yanking him forward through the power of her incisors until he was up against the fence, and fully able to reach an itch on her neck, as she began the list of Companions she had not conversed with. _

_:Hyatee__, because I have the distinct feeling he wouldn't tell me a thing.  Emery, because she truly enjoys her peace and quiet.  Carogan, because he disapproves of my gossiping.  And Amaro, because . . .: she trailed off, and Greg was momentarily preoccupied with the marvel of realizing he knew every Companion she was listing - as personally as she knew them – to fill the brief silence in.  Shaking his head, he decided he spent __way too much time listening to her._

_:Amaro__ enjoys his gossip just as much as you do,: he said teasingly once he shed his surprise.  _:I___ would think he'd be the first one you asked . . . especially with how smitten you've become with him!:_

If Companions could blush, Surra would be doing it now.  There was a hazy rosy tint to her 'voice', and there was no mistaking the embarrassment coming from her in waves.

_:He's__ got such nice __hindquarters though!: she said by way of excuse, and Greg's laughter filled the late morning sky as clearly and joyfully as a bubbling brook._

***

"Where've you been?" it wasn't an unpleasant question, and it was issued in a nice enough voice, but for some reason, the question nearly made Greg trip over his feet.

He stared at his year mate in complete shock, and his eyes whirled to the glimmering shade of a jay's brightest azure feather as he gaped.

Ever since he had told his friends what he thought about their plans for the Collegium-wide Blue-termination, not a single one had talked to him.  As if he was a traitor.

And now, the most hot-headed of the bunch, was openly and – Havens defend him! – _warmly_ asking him where he had been for lunch!

He was left utterly speechless.

"Greg?  Are you okay?" slowly, Greg recovered from his shock, and blinked at the sixteen year-old in front of him.

"Yeah . . . decided to talk to me again, have you?" he asked, understandably bitter at their steady disregard of him for nearly two days.

"Er . . . well, sorry about that," he grinned and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.  "We were all really off-balance recently . . . but it seems to have cleared up, whatever it was.  Back to the normal amount of love – or lack of it - between Grays and Blues now, anyway."

Greg's eyes once more transformed in to deeper shades, this time they swirled from jovial cerulean to contemplative twin pools of a stormy night sea.

"Back to normal, huh?  Yeah . . . makes sense, I suppose . . ." he muttered to himself.  His friend watched him silently with inquisitive hazel eyes.

"So . . . no hard feelings, right?  Not gona string me up for yelling at you?" Greg nodded distractedly, mind set firmly on his thoughts, and not on his relieved year mate.

If the Projection smothering the Collegium had been lifted, it meant one of two things.

Either the Trainee had developed incredibly strong Shields, and had been removed from the Healers Wing into his Trainee quarters, or he had left the Collegium all together.

Given what the Healer Trainee had said about the new Gray found missing, Greg was inclined to believe the latter was true.

But _why_ would someone want to leave the Collegium after being Chosen?  Immediately, Greg's mind supplied him with an ample number of answers.

_He might have left something behind . . . material or otherwise . . . but what can he have at home that can't be satisfactorily duplicated here?  Family, that's the only thing I can think of . . . but doesn't his Companion give him that?  At least to a certain extent, anyway . . .  _

And that was the gist of just about every answer his brain provided.  Wherever the Trainee had come from, whatever he had before the Collegium, couldn't _possibly be worth leaving his Companion._

But then again, perhaps he hadn't left his Companion.  Perhaps they had left together.

But still, the _why _of it remained unknown. 

_:He's__ definitely gone, love,: he said almost sadly to Surra.  __:Not__ a trace of him or his Projection in the Collegium.  I take it you had similar luck in the Field?:_

_:Actually__ . . .: her mischievous voice floated back, _:I've gathered a rather odd bunch of facts.:__

_:Oh__?: dare he hope?  __:And_ just what facts are those?:__

_:Nothing__ about the Trainee, but there are __Companions missing.: she said abruptly, with an uncharacteristic lack of preamble._

He blinked, both at her unusual behavior and the newly acquired information.  Compan_ions?  Shouldn't there be only __one missing?_

_:Two__, actually.  Amaro and Hyatee,: she reported._

Well, that was odd.  Amaro had yet to Choose, and Hyatee had Chosen Herald Menith nearly two decades ago.  Why would they go missing?

_:That__ has yet to be answered,: Surra commented unhelpfully.  _

_:Well__, if the Companions don't know anything about all this . . .:_

_:Then__ you can bet the Heralds don't,: she finished for him.  He nodded to himself, before sighing and disconnecting from her gently._

His curiosity about the new Trainee had doubled, and it looked like he wasn't going to get any answers to his questions in the near future.

_Just who is this new Trainee . . . what's his Gift . . . and is _it _the reason he's left, or is it something else?_

For some reason, he couldn't shake that chillingly confusing possibility off.

***

Jhaspar's troubled ebony eyes slid half-way shut, and he forced his clenched jaw to relax before he broke a tooth.

Sitting calmly across from him, King Aboras and Herald Kara continued to talk in entirely controlled tones.  They politely ignored the rising strain Jhaspar was trying desperately not to show, giving him time to regroup himself and reenter the conversation.

Unfortunately, their chat was centered on the one thing that was certain not to ease Jhaspar, and that was the missing Blue, and the missing Herald.

"So, from what few facts we have gathered," Kara was saying, her own calming eyes and voice undulating over both men in soothing waves, "there are two Companions missing, along with a Herald and a dangerously Gifted Unaffiliated Nobel.  Herald Roasin woke this morning with a set of his Whites missing, though nothing else seems to have been disturbed-"

"And what would you say all this points to, Herald Kara?" Aboras asked, though his gentle tone held no impatience, as his interruption might have implied.

Kara took no offence from her cut-off speech, and continued to talk as if she had not heard her king.

"From these verities, along with a handful of possible explanations submitted to me by an assortment of persons, I have concluded that Neoka Marron – aforementioned missing Unaffiliate – and Herald Menith have left Haven, in search of some unknown means, astride the Companions Amaro and Hyatee."

That was of no help whatsoever, but Kara kept her mask of emotionless beauty in place, even with the small - quickly smothered by a fit of coughing - derisive snort that escaped Jhaspar.

"And you have no idea in which direction they've gone, nor what these 'unknown means' could be?" Aboras inquired.  Kara hesitated, then briefly shook her head.

"That hypothesis would have no bearing in fact, I'm afraid, Highness.  Therefore, I cannot say I know where nor why they go."

"Very well, then," Aboras relented with a weary sigh, slumping back into his chair in a most un-kinglike way.  "I suppose we will have to postpone the Border mission?"

Jhaspar's ears perked at that.  

The Border . . . the Mage . . . the sickness . . .

Could all these have drawn Neoka and Menith out of Haven, and towards Hardorn?  Unless either one of them had gotten wind of what Jhaspar had in store for them . . .

_I've only told_ _a part__ of my plans to Aboras . . . but that part could be deduced into the entire thing, if one were clever enough . . . .  So really, Menith could _know where I was planning to send him, and why . . .__

_Ah!  Gods, why is this getting more complicated by the moment?!_

He closed his eyes fully and took a deep breath.

"Your Highness, I see no reason why the Border bound Heralds should delay their mission in sight of all this.  However, I think they should be fully aware of what they might find on their way to the border.  Perhaps we should add the order of finding and returning Neoka Marron, Herald Menith, and the Companions Amaro and Hyatee to Haven?"

Kara and Aboras fixed him with their open, composed gazes.

"If I recall correctly," Jhaspar went on, "one of the Heralds in the group is a mage.  Perhaps he could Scry, and see where our missing people are?"

But that suggestion was immediately put down by none other than Carogan.

_:For__ Herald Tru to Scry out Neoka and Menith's location would require knowing what they looked like.  Datan – Tru's Companion – tells me that neither of them ever met his Herald.:_

Jhaspar sighed and tiredly made a dismissing motion with his hand before Kara or Aboras could comment on his idea.

"Caro says that is not a possibility."

"Well, if we aren't postponing the mission, we're just going to have to hope that our omitted Herald and Blue are heading for Hardorn, and that the Heralds can stop them," Aboras said with a small shrug.

Kara did not look as if she liked that plan, but Jhaspar could hardly blame her.  He didn't much like 'having no choice but to hope' himself, and he knew Amaro was her Companion's son.  This made things a lot more personal for her, and therefore a lot more complex.

"I will inform the Heralds of their new orders," Jhaspar rose from his seat and left the room quietly.

Aboras let his eyes fall to Kara, who was sitting rather stiffly on the padded chair across from him.

"I'm sorry, Kara," he said softly, "but it seems we cannot do anything more."

A light trembling in her hand, which she lifted from her lap to tuck a loose strand of wine-red hair behind her ear, was the only thing that gave away her distress.

"I completely understand, Majesty," she said gracefully, rising and straitening out her white tunic.  "And now, if you will excuse me, I've several matters that need my attention."

He nodded sympathetically, and she left as quickly and silently as Jhaspar had.

It was only then that Aboras let himself drop his head into his hands.

His ruling had never been easy, and he had never expected it to be, but things were tying themselves into knots faster than he could undo them, and it was beginning to fray his already worn nerves.

He allowed his fingers to twine themselves into his graying blond hair, and grasp lightly.

One moment of weakness with no eyes watching was what he needed.  Just one moment to shield his face from the storm and think about absolutely nothing.  And he gave himself that moment.  He dug the heels of his hands into his tightly closed eyes until flashes of colors danced before him, and then he relaxed, and pulled his head from his grasp.

It was the equivalent of taking a deep breath before plunging one's self back into the never ceasing battle of life, and he was ready, if not exactly willing, to face the unavoidable swords once more.

***

Herald Mage Tru blinked at the King's Own Herald standing across from him, mossy green eyes turning swampy in his bewilderment.

He glanced at his long-time friend, Herald Rhes, who sent him a quick look back.  Rhes and Tru did not need Mindspeech to convey their thoughts to each other; they had been cohorts long enough to know at a fleeting look what the other was trying to say to them.

And right now, Rhes was as puzzled by the Own's request as Tru was.

"Let me get this straight," Tru began, turning his gaze back to Jhaspar.  "You want us to search out and bring back a Herald, two Companions, and a Blue with a power so incredible he could blow our minds to dust in a matter of seconds . . . _how?"_

Jhaspar sighed deeply, tilting his head and surveying them with knowledgeable dark eyes.

"Menith cannot disobey orders coming directly from the King," he said, leaning his head into his hand, "and if all three of you work together, I'm sure Neoka's Gift can be subdued long enough for you to bring him back."

Tru shared a glance with Rhes once more, and then to his other long-time comrade, Herald Veera.  Veera's shadowy blue eyes dimmed into a deep, dark amethyst as she returned his glance.  She was either very interested in Jhaspar's new orders, or very skeptical.

You never could tell with that woman.

"If his Gift is as powerful as you and the Healers have made it out to be . . ." Veera commented softly and suddenly, "capturing and containing him will be a near impossible task."

Rhes nodded slightly in agreement, though added nothing.  Tru spoke for both of them.

"Veera is right . . . as usual," he grinned slightly in her direction, and the flash of amusement was returned, just as briefly.  "These orders do not seem well thought out.  We're going to need a foolproof plan, if we intend to get the boy back to Haven with his – and not to mention our – minds intact."

Jhaspar's eyes flickered with some unreadable emotion, and Tru fell silent.

"Impossible or not," the Own said as his shoulders become rigid, "foolproof or not, these are your orders."

Tru could think of nothing to say in return, so he nodded once in answer.  Veera's murky indigo eyes slid further closed, and she became as unreadable as Tru had ever seen her.  She did not add a nod to Tru's, but she did not refute the Own as he stiffly left the room.

Tru sighed and toppled over onto a cushioned chair, hands behind his head and eyes closed.

"Well . . . what are we going to do?" he asked into the silence, knowing Veera and Rhes would sit and think mutely for candlemarks if he didn't start up a conversation.

"What _can_ we do?" Rhes said, and Tru could taste the shrug on his words, "Orders are orders."

"Yes, but Heralds aren't meant to blindly follow their monarch's commands," Veera pointed out.  "We're meant to think about them.  We're meant to act on our best conscience, and that is what makes us effective weapons.  We aren't foot-soldiers, we're trained to think before, during, and after we're given our instructions."

"So we won't make an effort to find and secure the boy and Herald?" Rhes asked, and Tru popped one eye open to find his friend raising an eyebrow at Veera.

"Perhaps," Veera answered, returning the ironic gesture, "and perhaps not.  I do not yet see this order as pressing as the original was.  I don't see how this boy could become such a problem as to call Heraldic attention to himself, much less the kind of attention Jhaspar is asking of us."

Tru rubbed the bridge of his nose idly as he delved into his own thoughts.

The last person that would take a Herald and his power for granted would be another Herald.  Jhaspar _had _to know what he was doing.  He was the Own, and knew Heralds as intimately as any other.  He wouldn't send three Heralds after a boy if he didn't think the child required such action.

"I think we've at least got to _try and bring the boy and Herald in," he said, moving his hand to massage his left temple rather than his nose.  "I think we'd better take the Own's word, if he thinks the boy needs to be in Haven."_

The others sent him measuring gazes, and he shrugged in response.

"As Rhes says, orders are orders, no matter how much you think about them.  If we find the Herald and child, we'll have to figure out what to do from there." 

Veera looked away disapprovingly, clearly showing what she thought of that, but Rhes sent him an appreciative glance.  He smiled lightly in return, knowing how easily and often his friend lost his arguments to Veera.

 "We'll leave in the morning, as scheduled," Tru said, rising from his seat.  "I'll see what information I can gather on this Neoka Marron while we're still here."

***

Rhes ran a hand over Leander – his tall, graceful Companion mare – rechecking  his saddlebags as she leaned into his caress.

_:Datan__ says Tru is on his way,: _she informed him, referring to the Companion on her other side, who nodded, _:and that he has some more information on Neoka Marron.:_

He smiled at Datan as he swung himself into the saddle, knowing the silver stallion had Chosen a rather difficult man, and would probably never get enough recognition for making sure Tru and the people around him didn't go mad from the Herald's eccentric side.

Gathering up his own Companion's reigns, he glanced over his shoulder at Veera, astride a very fine looking Companion mare.

He shook his head a sent a gentle glare towards Leander.  The "very fine looking" with which he had mentally described Coren - Veera's limber little mare - had come directly from her wicked mind.  

He sighed.  He was probably the only Herald with a shaych Companion, and though it was a burden sometimes, it made for interesting talk between fellow Heralds.

The aforesaid Companion whickered in amusement.

_:Not__ my fault you listen to everything I think,: she said, clearly amused._

_:Are__ you insinuating the fault is mine__?: he asked incredulously._

_:I__ am indeed,: she said, with a distinct snicker in his mind.  __:Your__ Mindspeech is strong enough to bother me whenever you're nearby.  And though it lacks the strength of the Blue we are after, it is still enough to lay the blame upon.:_

He was about to retort, when Tru entered the stable. 

"Mount up," he said immediately, unusually serious.  "The news I have will have to be told as we ride."    

***

They were out of Haven as quickly as their Companions could maneuver through the midday crowd, and the grim expression on Tru's face did not let up.

Rhes and Veera watched him worriedly.  Not much could cause their friend to act as he was, and they were both fervent and hesitant to learn what Tru could have found out about Neoka Marron.

They would not force their friend to speak with them, though, so it was nearly a candlemark of riding before the silence was broken.

"Oh, good gods, Tru!" Veera snapped, eyebrows lowered dangerously as Coren danced nervously beneath her, "Whatever it is about the Blue you've discovered couldn't possibly be as dramatic as you're making it out to be!"

Tru glanced briefly at her, before sighing and shaking his head.

"I . . . had to do a good bit of wandering around Haven to find anyone who would even talk about the Marrons," he said, softly.  "In the end, it was an old manservant who parted with some information, and even that came at a high price."

Rhys gently prodded Leander into a faster pace, and drew up beside Tru.

"Why would it be so difficult to gather information about Nobles?  Surely it couldn't have cost you more than a silver piece, if the information was from trustworthy sources."

"It cost me quite a few silver pieces, and supper to boot.  Seems Lord Marron has a habit of making sure any relevant information about him and his family is kept from prying – and not to mention cheap – ears.  However, there was an incident ten years ago that he had trouble covering up," Tru responded, keeping his eyes trained on the path ahead.

They were riding at a steady speed, and would reach the first available Way Station before the sun set.  Rhys was understandably uncomfortable with the idea of that many candlemarks of riding, and decided to distract himself with further conversation on the subject Tru was seemingly hesitant to speak about.

"What kind of incident?" Veera spoke up, from the other side of Tru.

"The scandalous kind," Tru replied.  "The kind that ruins entire bloodlines, and the Marron name is almost as infamous as the Ashkevron name.  Only about a quarter of the Nobles in Court know anything regarding the Marrons, and those are the ones that either can't be bought, or are already bought by Lord Marron himself."

"Well?" Rhys said impatiently, leaning towards his friend, "What is it?  What's this unpleasant incident no one speaks about?"

"Simple enough," Tru said.  "Lady Marron had an affair."

Veera scowled darkly from her saddle.

"That's it?  That happens all the time, Tru.  And though it _is _scandalous, it's hardly going to 'ruin the bloodline'.  The gods' know the Ashkevrons have had their share of scandals on that same subject, and it hasn't made them any less respectable."

"Yes, but none of the Ashkevrons got themselves tangled up with foreign royalty," Tru shot back.  Rhys and Veera blinked at him.

"What do you mean?" Rhys asked.  Tru sighed again, running a hand through his auburn hair. 

"Lady Marron had a disastrous affair with a Hardornian Prince," he stated simply.  "Lord Marron found out about it, though I've no idea how, and confronted her.  From what I could get out of the servant, things took a turn for the worst.  Lady Marron ended up leaving, with her youngest child in tow.  I'm assuming the child was the offspring of her affair, but I didn't have enough silver to get the man to say it.

"Well, once the Lady had left, it was only the Lord and the eldest son," Tru shrugged.  "And Neoka was immediately sent to the Collegium by his father."

"But what happened to Lady Marron and the child?" Veera asked, keeping her frown in place, "Where are they now?"

"Hardorn," Tru said, sending them both a meaningful glance, "and while I don't know the details of how the affair turned out, I do know that Lady Marron and her child have not returned to Haven."

_:Perhaps__ this is why Neoka is going to Hardorn?: Leander asked Rhys, who promptly asked the question aloud._

"It might be.  I don't see another reason _why_ he'd go . . . I just don't know why he took a Herald and Companion with him," Tru answered.

"Well, that's easily answered," Veera said unexpectedly.  Both males turned their eyes to her curiously, and she sent them patronizing looks, "His _Gift_!  If he has the power to destroy minds, it kind of follows that he has to power to coerce them."

"And he isn't a Herald . . ." Tru murmured.

"So he _would _use the power to do just that . . ." Rhys finished for him.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, and Rhys was almost too deep in his thoughts to notice the rising shape of the Way Station ahead of them.  The sun was already half set, casting the trees around them into shadow.  It was only when they were over the last hill between the Station and them did they see two white, large shapes grazing in front of it.      

***

Neo woke groggily, head and body buried beneath blankets, and his mind swimming most uncharacteristically.

Slowly, in case he was still suffering from a Reaction Headache, he crawled out from the pile of covers.

A warm, merrily cracking fire met his ears and eyes, met immediately by an exquisite burst of spicy, familiar scent.

Someone was cooking some kind of fowl.

A low, harmonious whistle sounded from outside, and Neo turned his head to blink at the occupied door.

"Woken up, have you?" it was Menith, holding a freshly polished Companion hackamore in one hand, and a silver hair-coated brush in the other.

Neo didn't answer him, but it seemed his mentor wasn't waiting for an answer.  He continued to whistle, which didn't seem like a trait Neo would have though Menith had.

_My mind is soup; Herald Menith is singing like a bird . . . has the world gone mad while I slept?_

Menith entered the small cottage and proficiently stashed the hackamore and brush in a corner.

"Hungry?" he asked, pointing to the thick looking broth in the cauldron above the fire.

Neo swallowed once, in case his voice sounded as dry as his throat felt, and grunted out an answer.

"Yes."          

 Menith conjured up two wooden bowls and began to serve them while Neo collected himself and tried to clear his mind of the haze that kept him from thinking properly.

The broth helped exponentially.  It was spicy and soothing for his throat, and relaxed his over-taught muscles enough so sitting on the edge of the bed wasn't uncomfortable.

Through half-lidded eyes, Neo watched Menith as the Herald ate his own broth and stared into the vibrantly ginger fire.

_I . . . I like this, _he realized with a small twist of his stomach, _I like being outside the Collegium . . . I like eating supper with another . . . I like camping out in Way Stations . . ._

And then, with a tighter, almost painful lurch of his insides, he remembered _why _they were camping out in Way Stations.

_Sickness . . . Vannasa . . . Mage . . ._

Something of his thoughts must have reached his face, for Menith was hovering in front of him suddenly, grasping his shoulders and staring into his face concernedly.

"Are you alright, Neoka?  Is it another headache?"

Weakly, Neo shook his head, and made an effort to get his emotions and expression under control.

"I . . . we need to go," he whispered, once he'd succeeded with the latter.  The former was proving to be a rather difficult thing to control, but he continued to try as he stumbled to his feet and made his way to the door.

A very large, white body was unexpectedly in his way when he made it to the doorway, and he found himself staring into the bottomless sapphire eyes of a familiar Companion.

_:You__ are not well yet,: Amaro said.  __:You_ need more rest.:_ _

"I'm fine," he croaked out, pushing past the Companion and stumbling into the small, grassy clearing surrounding the Way Station.  Night was nearly upon them, but it was as good a time as any to travel, as far as he was concerned.

"Herald," he began, turning around to face Menith.  He didn't know why he hadn't said anything about the sickness and the Mage before, but he couldn't dwell on that now, "there's something . . . you have to know . . ."

It was getting difficult to talk, and every being in front of him knew it.

"You can tell me later," Menith said, taking a few steps towards him.  Neo stepped back, shaking his head.

Suddenly, he stopped.  His ebony eyes opened wide, and he froze where he stood, paling by the moment.  Menith froze with him, but he was staring at Neo in worry, and did not feel what Neo felt.

Neo slowly turned around, eyes narrowing as he scanned through the trees.

He felt it.  He _knew there were people out there.  Their thoughts echoed past his Shields, and their ghostly presence in his mind told him quickly just what kind of people they were._

"Heralds," he gasped, backing up until he bumped up against Menith's chest.  Almost immediately the contact was broken, but Neo's Shields could not sustain themselves from such closeness.

_Did he say Heralds?  Heralds are here?  Already? _Menith's thoughts burned into his mind, and Neo was too shocked to do anything but stare ahead of him.  Nothing he had "heard" had ever been this loud, but before he could reestablish his Shields, another wave of thought from his mentor washed over him.

_Well, at least I don't have to drag the boy back to Haven on my own . . ._

_That _broke him from his stupor.  Stumbling away from the Herald, Neo turned stricken eyes to him.

Slamming his Shields up, his gaze quickly turned from shocked to betrayed.

_He was never going to help you,_ his mind whispered to him, _he was just waiting to bring you back to Haven . . . _

Another, smaller voice said that if that were true, Menith could have done so easily while he had been passed out, but the voice was drowned out by the deceit Neo felt.

Almost unconsciously, Neo bolted past Menith, and scrambled atop the confused Amaro.  The Companion danced uneasily beneath him, but seemed reluctant to throw him.

_:_Go_, Amaro!: he shouted at the Companion, and as he shouted, threw every horrifying, disorienting thing he could think of at Amaro's mind._

Amaro, fraught with images of destruction, death, and demons, rolled his eyes madly, and leaped into a wild run.

If not for the guiding of Neo's hands on his mane and in his mind, Amaro would have run straight back to Haven.

The world blurred past them, and Neo doubted they could have gone any faster if Amaro had had wings instead of hooves.

At full speed, Amaro was something to behold.  His slim muscles slid beneath Neo's legs expertly, his breath came out in short frightened pants, and his head was stretched out, align with his spine.

Ribbons of silver hair flicked Neo in the face, but he ignored them.  Urging Amaro on by yet more terrifying Projections, he himself was caught up in them.  He lost himself in gory, sickening imagery, until he could not longer feel the distinct painful bareback ride of a Companion at full alacrity.

The wave of horrible images finally ebbed, and Neo found himself barely clinging to Amaro, as the Companion heaved hugely beneath him.

Blinking air-torn eyes, Neo scanned the landscape around them as Amaro slowed his breakneck pace, and finally stopped, legs shaking and head low to the ground.

Neo slipped off him, panting himself.  He recognized nothing about this landscape.  It was all farm land to him, with not a farm house in sight.

How far had they come?  Had they passed the one respectable town on the road to Hardorn's capitol?

Wearily, Neo fell to the ground, just as Amaro collapsed beside him.  Looking around once more, he felt a tingling feeling ahead of them.

Narrowing his eyes, he studied the land in front of them as best as the moon allowed him.

Blinking in surprise, his panting increased in volume.

Ahead of them, like a huge, invisible wall, was the Shielded border of Hardorn.

_That was a _six day ride_! _He thought amazedly, _I can't hold a Projection that long . . . and the night is just _beginning to wane!__

He wasn't an expert on beasts and their speeds, but Neo knew the impossible when he saw it.  There was just _no way _Amaro could have run that far, that fast!  _Absolutely no way_.

But the Border loomed up ahead of him, unmistakable and unaffected by his disbelieving thoughts.

There was no denying it.  They _had _reached the Border in a night.  Amaro _could run that fast.  And it __was possible._

A glance at the Companion proved that Amaro was just recovering from his flight, and he looked as if he'd run the entire length of Valdemar, instead of just half.

"You did it," Neo whispered, giving him a shaky smile, "you did it, we're here . . ."

Authors note: I think there are a few spelling and grammar mistakes up in there, but nothing too bad, I hope.  This took a _long time to write, so I won't delay the update any longer with answers to reviews.  Hope you don't mind! __  _

                 _                                   _


	9. Hardornian Princes are a pain in the nec...

The day was barely starting.  The sky was pale and overcast, the birds were chattering instead of singing morning praises, the leafy branches of trees were dripping dew onto the ground below them.

And four silent mounted white riders sat upon their silvery blue-eyed steeds, staring at the hoofprints before them with disbelieving eyes.

"Impossible," Veera finally broke the quiet, gripping the bell-covered hackamore of her mare until her knuckles were white, "it's impossible . . ."

"Companions can't . . . they can't . . ." Menith stumbled in his words and fell into silence.  They continued to stare at the tracks.

There was nothing overly unusual about the hoofprints.  Their size and spacing indicated a very fast flight for the horse that left them, and a shiny glimmer left on the flattened grass and dirt could have been a trick of the rising sun, as it only appeared when one looked at it sideways.

But the spot the Heralds were looking at was where the tracks stopped, not the tracks themselves.

Menith dismounted with a soft grunt, squatting beside the hoofprints with a concentrated frown on his face. 

"They . . . they just . . . end," he said, running a finger along the last print.  Indeed, the mile-long track ended in the middle of that valley.  It did not veer into a different direction, did not change its spacing as if the horse had leapt in the middle of its wild run.  They just stopped, with no sign of the horse in sight.

"Herald Tru," Menith looked up at Tru, who dragged his eyes from the trail to meet Menith's own.

"Yes?" 

"You're a Mage, are you not?  Was magic involved here?" Menith asked, getting up from his crouch and staring at Tru hard.

"I can check," Tru said, half-closing his eyes.  A strange shifting went through the air, and the others stirred uncomfortably.  Tru fully opened his eyes a moment later, his face now wrought with confusion.

"Well?" Veera voiced, looking at him expectantly.

"The ley-lines around the area are drained . . . it's as if . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

"As if what?" Veera sounded impatient, and Coren mirrored her uneasiness with a slight toss of her head and silvery tail.

"I was going to say that it was as if a Gate had been constructed here . . . but it doesn't feel like any Gate I know of," Tru seemed to be struggling for words.  The others remained silent, waiting for him to explain his findings.  "In Karse, there are beings called Firecats.  They have the ability to magically transfer their body from one point to another, without building and taking down a Gate.  They call it Jumping . . ."

"You're saying a Firecat Jumped Amaro and Neoka out of here?" Menith crossed his arms doubtfully.  Tru shook his head.

"No.  Firecats leave a . . . a type of signature when they Jump.  There was no Firecat here.  I only bring it up because the disturbance of the ley-lines suggests that a Jump took place."

"But how can a Jump take place if there is no Firecat?" Veera asked.  Tru shook his head.

"Unless Neoka has the most powerful Fetching Gift in the history of Velgarth, I'm going to say Amaro somehow . . .  well, somehow Jumped his way to somewhere else."

Hyatee snorted and tossed his head.  Menith looked at him, then back at the others.

"He says that would be impossible.  Jumping is a magic belonging exclusively to Firecats."

"It is what the ley-lines suggest," Tru said with a shrug, "if anyone has a better explanation, I'd love to hear it." 

The Heralds looked away, knowing full well that they had no counter explanation to offer.  The Companions glanced at one another, trepidation swirling in their sapphire eyes.

***

Neo did not know when he fell asleep.  His dozing was long and dreamless, and he woke only when his pillow began to stir.

_Wait . . . pillows don't move . . ._

Blinking, he straightened and rubbed bleary eyes.  When he pulled his hands away from his face, he found himself staring at a rolling field, not a farmhouse or any other type of homestead in sight.  His memory rushed back to him, making his night-chilled body heat with excitement.

He looked over his shoulder, and grinned foolishly at his "pillow."  Amaro blinked back at him, azure eyes still holding exhaustion in their midst.  From the uncomfortable looking position they were both in, they seemed to have dropped asleep where they stood, and toppled over onto each other in the night.  Neo had somehow curled up against Amaro's stomach, which had kept his back warm, but he ignored the awkwardness of their arrangement in favor of something much more important.  

"We're at the border!" he cried out, grin breaking into a full-blown smile, "Amaro, you did it!"

The Companion blinked once more, then glanced past him at the slightly shimmering air that separated Hardorn and Valdemar.

_:I__ . . . did it?: he repeated.  Neo nodded, reaching out a hand to pat Amaro's withers._

"Now all we have to do is get to the Throne City, rescue Vannasa, and destroy the Sickness Mage," he listed happily.  Amaro fixed him with his blue gaze once more.

_:None of those things are going to be as easy as you seem  think they are,: _he said gravely, then abruptly changed the subject, _:I can't remember the run.:_

"You . . . you can't remember what?" Neo asked, his smile fading in confusion.

_:All__ I remember is you jumping on my back without so much as a by-your-leave, and then . . . the rest is completely clouded by terror.:_

Neo looked away guiltily.

"Ah, well . . . I . . . I Projected that . . ." he admitted slowly.

_:You__ . . . Projected fear into me so I would run?: the voice was filled with disbelief.  Neo nodded, and immediately went onto the defensive._

"They . . . they were going to take us back to Haven, Amaro!  I read it from them before I could even see them!  And when I backed into Menith . . ." he trailed off, his voice suddenly filling with hurt.  Menith had been prepared to "drag him back to Haven" with the help of the newly arrived Heralds.  It hurt more thinking that Menith had only been pretending to help Neo all along than he really thought it should. 

_Get a grip! _He shouted at himself silently, _you've been betrayed before!  It's not like you weren't expecting as much!_

But Neo knew he hadn't expected Menith to betray his trust.  He'd been in the Herald's _mind for Haven's sake!  If betrayal was a part of him, Neo would have seen it._

Paling, Neo realized what he had done.

_I . . . I acted too quickly . . . They might have been sent to retrieve us, but there were other ways of dealing with that than running away . . ._

Amaro had gotten to his hooves while Neo delved into his thoughts.

_:Who__ is "they?": the Companion asked.  Neo blinked and searched his memory for what he had said before becoming lost in thought._

"'They' are Heralds.  They were sent to take us back to Haven," he said.  Amaro shook himself, ridding his coat of the blades of grass that had stuck to it during their rest.

_:And__ why did that panic you?  You aren't averse to using your Gift, as you proved with me several times now.  Why hesitate to fight now?  Why is this time different from the time Menith tried to stop you?: he asked.  Neo slid his ebony gaze towards the border, and the longing for his sister rekindled.  Unexpectedly with it came a surge of elation.  He'd gotten this far, hadn't he?  It was only a matter of time before he had his sister back . . ._

"Because Menith was prepared to help them, and each one of them had enough in Mind Gifts to subdue my own, I think.  I didn't want to take any chances.  Not with her life dependent on my decisions," they both looked at the border now, and Amaro knew immediately who Neo was talking about.

_:Well__ . . . no use in keeping her waiting, is there?: he said with a sigh.  Neo echoed the sigh, then nodded._

"Are you ready?  Don't push yourself, all right?  I wouldn't want you going lame on me." 

Amaro tossed his head and his sapphire eyes filled with righteous indignation, _:Companions__ don't go "lame!"  Honestly, just where have you spent the last ten years of your life?  One would think a Haven-babe like yourself would know better . . .:_

Neo grinned, apologized with another pat, and mounted.

"Off to Hardorn then, Amaro.  And you pick the pace."

***

"It will be the same as the last ones, Amaro," Neo pointed out angrily, glaring at the swiveling ears of the Companion, "so what's the point?"

_:Is__ the well always__ half empty with you?: Amaro asked cheerfully, making Neo's glare narrow further.  He chuckled in his mind and whickered aloud, _:The___ point is that this village might not be like the others.  And I, for one, would rather not be surprised.:_

Neo sighed and raised his eyes to the pale cloud-strewn sky.  The village they were speaking of loomed ahead of them, farming fields barren and houses untended.  Even at the considerable distance between them, Neo could see that there was no living creature inhabiting the place.

But, as Amaro had pointed out, this village might not be like all the others.  Deserted and barren of any type of life above a feral chicken or two.

Closing his eyes, Neo delved into the chaotic, enticing planes of the mind.  He reached out for the mentality of humans, expecting and steeling himself against the blue-white presence of Amaro.

So far on their journey into Hardorn they had come across not a single human being.  Neo, who's mind had been ever battered by the thoughts of others in Haven, found the stretching silence somewhat disconcerting.

He was about to pull back into the plane of reality, when a small, sharp spike of thought echoed from the village.

_Good day for gardening, I think . . ._

The "voice" was aged and wizened, giving it the wonderful feel and color of old parchment.  Neo started in surprise, before centering his attention on the mind of the old man.

He wasn't surprised that he had overlooked it before.  The aged tended to have very scattered thoughts, he had discovered, compared to the young.  And scattered thoughts were much harder to pick up on than the shouts of youth were.

"I've found one," he murmured aloud, still concentrating on finding out as much about the elder as he could.  Amaro did not respond, most likely because the Companion did not want to break Neo's concentration, for which the Blue was grateful.

_Damn old bones . . . gona have to get Apple awake to help with the weeds . . ._

Neo examined the line of thought voraciously.  With each word there was a feeling and image, swirling up from the depths of the man's consciousness, gleaming in the feelings he had had at the time, as if dipped meticulously into the affection the old man had for the people Neo was seeing.  From these spirals of imagery, Neo found out that "Apple" was the old man's granddaughter, a sprightly, carefree little child whose cheeks and hair were as red as the fruit she was named after.

However, along with that warm image, a reflection of Apple's mother rose to dominate the others.  The woman reminded Neo strongly of the female Guards in Haven; her bright red hair tied back in a braid, her chestnut eyes and full pink lips worn by struggle but brightened by life, and the unmistakable look of one who was prepared to die for her loved ones.

As she had done, Neo learned from the thread of thought that followed his explorations.  She and Apple's father and brothers, and the rest of the village, and perhaps most of Hardorn.

_Shame . . . a damn shame . . ._ came the unhappy thought.  Neo felt the pain the old man was going through by thinking of the past, and drew the man's mind back to gardening.  Settling it there, Neo withdrew back into his own head.

"It's an old man, and his granddaughter," he reported to Amaro.

_:Did__ you find out what happened here?: Amaro asked.  Neo shook his head._

"Only that it was something terrible," he said softly.  Amaro did not pursue the question any farther, and hurried his pace a bit more down the dusty trail.

The speed wasn't anywhere near as fast as they had been going last night, but they flew across the countryside anyway.  Neo, now tuned into the old man's mind, knew immediately when their presence had been discovered.

_Rider comin' . . . _the gruff voice echoed, _guess the old Gift isn't what it used to be . . ._   

"He's Gifted," Neo informed Amaro in surprise.

_:I__ should be able to sense him then,: Amaro replied, _:do you know what type of Gift it is?:__

"Something that should warn you when someone approaches before you can see them," Neo provided.  

_:That__ narrows down the search to Mind and Earth based Gifts, mostly,: Amaro murmured.  Neo remained silent.  The old man didn't have the prominent taste of someone with the kind of Gift he had, but Neo didn't think he knew more about that than Amaro did.  He left the Companion to his musings._

Ahead of them, a small figure emerged from one of the dwellings.  Neo recognized it immediately as the old man.

He was crouched over a walking stick, staring fiercely at them with fading eyesight as they neared, his silver beard and hair long and unkempt.  After a couple of seconds, a child ran out of the house after him, flowers braided into her hair and cheeks rosy with the invigoration of childhood.  Neo caught and marked her "taste" as well, listening briefly to her thoughts before tuning them out when excitement made them garbled and little better than pure, wordless emotion.

"Greetings," Neo hailed in Hardornian when they were in speaking distance.  Amaro closed the rest of the expanse quickly, pulling up with a flurry of hooves and silky mane and tail.  Apple squealed in delight, and the old man's face lost a little of its guard.

"Greetings," the old man said with a slight nod.  Neo dismounted and gave them both his most charming smile.

It won over Apple immediately, but the old man did not budge an inch in his indecision of how welcome these strangers were.

Amaro shook his mane and seemed to brighten his silver coat exponentially.  Apple very nearly lost her mind at that, running up with another squeal to stroke and exclaim over Amaro, who enjoyed it much more than Neo thought he would admit aloud.

Turning his deliberately genial gaze back to the old man, his smile widened.

_First impressions are lasting ones, so find out who and what he likes and _be _those things, he told himself forcefully, then allowed a slight grin to touch his face, _well, all those days in Court have finally proven to be useful!__

"We've been on this road for near two days, and you're the first people we've come across," he said, keeping his voice idle and warm.  The old man said nothing, his eyes roaming Neo and Amaro in wariness, and a part of Neo not trained thoroughly by Court became unnerved by the lack of response his friendly advances were having.  However, he had cracked tougher nuts than the old man in front of him, and he kept the absent-looking smile on his face.

"Not a trace of anyone else, and we've looked pretty hard," he sent a glance over his shoulder at Amaro, who was watching Apple weave through his legs happily.  Carefully, in case his advancements would be detected by the old man's Gift, he caught hold and listened to his mind.

_. . . knew a Herald would come someday . . . looks a bit young to do anything against Lord Morbus though . . . however, can't say that I mind, if this means the Lord will get a taste of what he's been giving out . . ._

Neo blinked, then looked down at himself, forgetting he had borrowed the unique uniform of the Heralds.

A rush of guilt filled him.  The old man was expecting him to help out with whoever this "Lord Morbus" was, and Neo couldn't lend his aid so freely.  He wasn't _like_ the Heralds.  He had things to do!  And he certainly wasn't going to tangle himself up with Lord Morbus if he could avoid it.  The name had an oddly sinister feel to it, and he really didn't care to find out what kind of power, in Court and out of it, this Lord held.  

But the old man's face suddenly turned from guarded and suspicious, to open and amiable, and Neo felt his resolve to not help dissolving away.  These were simple folk, and whatever Lord Morbus was doing to them, they certainly didn't deserve it.  Perhaps on his way back with Vannasa, he would have a few words with the Lord . . .

"Didn't I tell you, Apple?" the old man said suddenly, beaming at his granddaughter, "Didn't I say a Herald wasn't going to sit still in Valdemar while all this happened?"

"You did Granda!" Apple said spiritedly, throwing her arms around one of Amaro's legs and hugging it tightly with a bubbly giggle, "I told you your Gift was just fine!"

The old man must have caught the curious glance Neo gave him, for he chuckled and explained.

"Foresight, I think you call it," he said, tapping his skull with a gnarled finger, "didn't see _you_ comin' down the road, but what with everythin' else happening, can't really blame the old thing, can ya?"

He chuckled again and took the finger he had been tapping his head with to point at a run-down stall beside their house.

"Apple's too small to treat your horse right, and I'm afraid I'm too old to do much better by it," his smile turned apologetic, "but while you get him settled in, we'll have your meal cookin', and a warm bath waitin' for ya."

Neo's smile turned genuine.  A bath and food sounded wonderful at the moment, and he wasn't a bit irritated about being left to take care of Amaro by himself if both those things were warm.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, turning towards the stall.  Amaro followed, eager to get a meal not made entirely of grass.

"See how well trained he is, Apple?" Neo heard the old man say, "You don't see stallions like that everyday . . ."

The stall was in a sad state.  Cobwebs and bug-ridden wood and straw would not make it a comfortable night for Amaro.  Neo cleaned a stall out as best he could while Amaro stood and watched nearby.

_:Try__ to get the story of what happened here out of the old man,: Amaro said, nipping at an itch on his leg, __:the Heralds will need to know when we return.:_

Neo sighed and nodded, exiting the stall with a final sweep of an old broom he had scavenged.

"And what about this Lord Morbus?  The old man was thinking about him a while back.  Doesn't sound like a pleasant fellow.  What should we do about him?" he asked while Amaro sidled past him into the stall.  He clasped his hands over the end of the broom and leaned his chin against them, frowning slightly.  Amaro made himself comfortable, then buried his nose in the water trough, which Neo had had to unclog and refill.

_:I'm surprised you're interested at all in him,: _Amaro stated finally, _:as long as it has nothing to do with you and retrieving Vannasa, why should it matter?:_

Neo frowned.

"Because Apple and the old man have suffered by his hand," he said incredulously, "we should at least stop by on our way back and see if we can't put an end to whatever he's doing."

Amaro glanced at him, then turned to his bucket of grains.

_:If__ Lord Morbus really is mistreating his people, it's of no business to us.  Especially no business of yours.: _

"What?" Neo blinked.  Was Amaro actually saying he _wouldn't_ help these people?  And what exactly did he mean: "especially no business of yours"?

_:This__ is not Valdemar.  Heralds have no power here, and you aren't even a Herald.  Lord Morbus is Hardorn's problem.  Only when it threatens Valdemar may we – the Heralds and Companions, I mean – interfere.:_

Neo found himself gaping at the sapphire eyes that suddenly seemed much colder than the gem they resembled.

"I can't believe you're refusing to help these people!  I always thought Heralds stuck their noses in wherever they could possibly fit!  Doesn't that hold true with their mounts?" his gape turned into a glare, and Amaro stopped his eating to stare back at him.

_:I__ agreed to help you because you needed my legs, young Blue,: he said, _:do not think to tell me what a Herald and Companion must do.  You are not either, and have no say in the matter.:__

Neo threw down the broom angrily, startling Amaro.

"If you refuse to aid those that need you, how can you claim to be any better than I?!  Just because you were born to help people, doesn't mean only you have the right to!  And even if that were the case, how _dare _you demand to choose who you help! You're nothing better than a common stallion if you believe all that you're saying!  Run back to Haven then, _horse_, for I do not need nor want your legs anymore!" he stormed out of the stalls, his fists clenched and his strides powerful, not looking back.

Amaro stared after him, eyes gone sad and introspective after a stunned moment of pure shock.

Perhaps the Blue was right . . . borders were no reason to restrict one's power.  Evil didn't see it as a restraint, so why should good?

He had no counter argument for that, and felt an immense amount of shame well up inside him.  Neoka was right.  He _was little better than a horse if he refused to help any he did not see fit._

He tried to touch Neoka's mind to tell him this, but the Blue's Shields repelled him immediately.  Almost violently.  He would not be able to talk with Neoka tonight.  He would have to save his apologies for the morning . . .

***

Neo clutched the stolen uniform and pulled at it almost manically, his eyes brightened by tears he refused to let fall and his breath ragged with sobs he refused to release. 

_I never liked Heralds and Companions, _he shouted to himself, _never . . . but they're supposed to be righteous . . . honorable . . . god-like damn it!  They aren't supposed to be so . . . so selfish!  _

A small voice in his head said that maybe he was being too harsh on Amaro.  The Companion was, perhaps, unnerved by being away from his homeland, and didn't want to prolong his stay by pitting himself against a local Lord.  Or simply didn't think it wise to delve into foreign affairs without the consent of King Aboras.

The hands that were tugging frenziedly against the loathed uniform suddenly grew weak and dropped to his sides.

"Vannasa," he whispered harshly to the silent afternoon sky, wishing strongly that his sister was beside him, her simple joy of living permeating the air and easing his distress, "gods, I . . . I wish I hadn't changed so much . . . it would be so much easier to act like this was Court . . . that nothing here really mattered . . ."

Twice now he had been hurt.  Once by Menith, who's betrayal Neo was still questioning, and now by Amaro.  Neo had thought that the Companion would always be with him in Hardorn.  That he wouldn't have to do everything on his own.

_But I've ruined that, haven't I? _he asked himself, his tone almost monotonous in his misery, _I've gone and driven the only thing left that could have helped me straight back to Haven . . . you're an idiot, Neo!  You're no better than your father!_

He let out a soft hiss at that.  The accusation tore at his heart viciously and he longed to return to the stalls and apologize for the things he had said.

Halfway through his turn, he was stopped by a small body blocking his way.

"Food's ready, Herald!" Apple cried out enthusiastically.  She grabbed his hand before he could respond and dragged him towards the house.  Her bouncy little steps and nonsense chattering drew his thoughts away from Amaro and his father, and he focused instead on the food the old man and Apple had prepared.

It was a far cry from the feasts of the Collegium, but the homey atmosphere and lively company more than made up for it.  Neo was hounded by both Apple and the old man for news of Valdemar, and he entertained them with the recent tales of adventure that were being swapped in Court.  When he had finally run dry of topics concerning Valdemar, he gave the old man a direct look that easily conveyed the message of "we need to get down to business."

The old man nodded slightly, and sent Apple to bed.  The child moaned and complained heartily, but trudged to her hay-filled loft without the kind of fuss Neo would have expected to be raised from most Noble children he knew.

When Apple had finally fallen into dreams of flower fields and the lovely silver stallion outside, Neo and the old man were sitting together in spindly old rocking chairs beside the fire, watching the sun slowly descend below the horizon, illuminating the sky with soft ginger warmth and the brightest of stars began to awaken and wink down at them.

"Suppose you want the story then, eh?" the old man finally asked, staring deeply into the flickering flames.  Neo said nothing, despite Amaro's advice.  It was clearly a painful topic for the old man, and though his curiosity was picking at him, Neo didn't want to be the cause of pain for the elder.

The old man took a breath before continuing, "I take it you don't know who Lord Morbus is, then?"

Neo shook his head.

"Crown Prince he was, when I was a lad," he muttered softly, "never a better man for the throne.  Loved his kingdom.  More than some thought natural, but none complained.  Loving the kingdom is the job of the king.  S'what Hardornian Royalty's supposed to do."

He fell silent for a moment, and Neo sat as still as he could.  He could tell the tale he was about to hear would explain a lot, and didn't want to interrupt.

"Anyway, the day for the crowning came 'round," the old man continued, "I take it you know how Hardornian Royalty is crowned?"

Neo nodded, "they're tied to the earth of Hardorn," he said softly, repeating the phrase his teacher had used.  The old man nodded.

"Tied and bound," he said, "can't go wrong by it if you're attached like that, was the thinking," he shook his head, and Neo felt a foreboding feeling well up inside him, "the ceremony for the Prince went fine.  The Priest who did it said he hadn't seen a more successful union.  They gave the Prince time to adjust, 'cause it's hard on you the first days, I hear."

Again he shook his head.

"And that's where I think somethin' went wrong.  Servants in the castle said the Prince was acting funny.  Said he hardly ever came out of his trance with the land.  Wasn't too healthy to be so infatuated, I think, but folk at the time didn't see nothing wrong with it.  Said the Prince was just figuring out how to use his new legs.  It was only when things started happenin' to people that folk started getting worried."

"What kind of things?" Neo asked, despite his desire to not interrupt.

"Strange things," the old man actually shuddered, despite the near stuffy warmth of the room, "crops just up and died.  Animals started acting odd.  Wouldn't do what they've always done.  Sheep and cattle went wild.  Dogs and cats followed soon after.  Whole villages starved before someone blamed the Prince aloud.  Said the land was sick, and it was the king's job to find out what and fix it.  The Prince, though . . . he said t'wasn't the _land_ which was sick, but the people."

Again a pause, and Neo narrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"But what was really happening?  Why were the animals and crops acting strangely?" he asked.  The old man sighed and leaned forward, hands clasping his cane and eyes troubled.

"Well, I'll tell you as much as I know," he said.  "See, when the Prince blamed the folk for everything happening, everyone knew something was wrong.  Some said the Prince had gone crazy when he bonded with the land.  Said he became more rock, tree, and dirt than man.  And I admit, it looked like that for a while.  Prince stopped talking to people, started taking long walks out of the castle.  Didn't return till a good fortnight later.  But no matter who talked to him, he just said the same things, over and over again.  'T'wasn't the land, t'was the people.'  Kept blaming farming folk and the like, saying everything was going wrong 'cause of them."

Another shake of his disheveled head.

"Now, I know there are a few farmers out there that don't treat the land as it should be treated, and maybe the Prince was talking about those people.  Maybe there was some truth in his words.  But there are as many good, honest folk as there are bad ones, and they didn't deserve what happened anymore than the next man."

Neo's breath caught in his throat, "what . . . what happened?"

"Sick.  Near everyone got sick," the old man whispered, throwing cautious looks around the room as if the Prince were there with them, "not a normal sickness neither.  Terrible stuff.  Just up and grabs you.  No warning.  You might be out gardening, and the next thing you know, _bam," he brought his cane down on the floor hard, making Neo jump in his seat, "you're flat on your back, and you never get back up."_

Neo felt himself pale, and quickly clutched the arms of his chair to keep his trembling hands from showing.

_The . . . Sickness . . . it's nearly wiped Hardorn clean of people . . . and the Mage is starting to go after Valdemar!_

Authors note: ah yes.  And the plot thickens just a bit!  This is no longer a watery soup fic!  Whee!  Anyway, I've a bit of self-promoting to do *stares at suddenly empty seats* ah, well, you know that fic idea way, way, way back when, called Stealing Hearts?  I had to remove it from ff.net 'cause the people there asked me to, but I switched it to an RPG, because you guys had some _awesome _character designs, and I wanted them to be put to better use.  The site's dismal, but the RPG's are incredibly fun.  Anyone can join, just go here: 

And that's the end of that little thingy.  Now on to the review responses no one reads ^_^

Lady Silver Dragon – we've an extra order of "Amaro's a git, Neo's got some issues, and Firefox is evil, which is the only reason they aren't together, damn it!" flags coming in, so don't worry about breaking more.  But between you, me, and whoever else reads this, those flags are only going to be good until the next chapter comes out ^.^ fun Choosing time for Amaro in chapter 10, whee!  Oh, and thank you very much ^_^

Youa – thank you!  The story is going a bit slow, isn't it? *kicks chapters* the end is right around the corner, though, so no worries!

Angel of Death – thanks!  We've plenty of "Neo and Amaro forever!" flags if you're into that pairing, though there are some other mixes out there.  *ogles other mixes* Amaro and Vannasa, Amaro and some mysterious stranger we've yet to meet, and there's even an Amaro and Menith flag *raises eyebrow at pairing* you choose ^_^

Faeborn2930 - *offers foot massage* you've been doing the update dance for a while, huh?  Sorry for the wait, but thanks for the kind review!  I think there are too many Herald-trainee stories out there, and I couldn't really offer anything to the bunch.  But Blues and the rest of the people in ML's world seem a bit neglected to me.  Only right that one should have a story to himself ^^

Dream Keeper – lovely story you have!  *envious* but what really happened in the run will soon be revealed, never fear!  And thanks!

Emerald Flame - *smiles* you're, I think, the only one to say chapter 8 is the best of the bunch, and I surely appreciate it.  The Heralds sent after Neo and Menith didn't have time to think up a trap, if that's what you're guessing, but as for the Mage . . . *grin* well, who knows what he's up to.  Hope you don't mind me responding to the reviews again.  Old habit.

Silver Dragonfly – yes, I think it would be very frustrating as well.  Good thing Neo doesn't have to deal with _that_ while in Hardorn, though he may very well wish to swap what he comes across in Hardorn for Jhaspar and all his unreasonableness later.  *grins* can't say that I know the Blue's thoughts on the matter ^^

Herald Mistylenna – not fond of the cliffs, are ya?  Well, the next chapter has one fit for the roadrunner cartoons, and its where my top secret twist comes in to play *happy wiggle* and thank you!

ElvenRanger – right on the button!  You're good at this plot-guessing aren't you? ^_^    

Evandi and Hyreli – yay!  I advertised! *points to authors note* now lets see if anyone bites.  I know I promised that the very end of the chapter would reveal Amaro's Chosen, but it would have taken another nine pages, and I've trouble enough downloading three pages with this site *angry glare at ff.net*.  Anyway, can I possibly, maybe, perhaps, by chance, see just an itty bitty, teensy weensy, small, little Lavan and Kalira?  *biggest puppy dog eyes a fox can manage* I know you're having problems with the plot, but even a pointless little whim-teaser would be okay! *tries not to get excited*

Aristel – oh that makes two of us!  No good at waiting, this fox, not at all.  I hope you like this chapter as much as the rest of the story ^^

Cat – simple, yet to the point ^_^.  Hope you didn't wait too long!

Ola – ah, my shaych Companion.  I hoped someone would like that.  And Jhaspar's being a bit of a git, I know *this him over the head* there's a reason for it, of course, but I'm carrying that on to the sequel *dizzy eyes* too many stories!

Psycho tabby cat – if you keep saying those things, I'll write as much as you want me to! ^_^ flattery is a weakness of mine.  Criticism is better for my writing, I admit, but flattery makes me want to write.  We've a whole corner and flag dedicated to yelling at Amaro for not Choosing Neo right away *ushers psychotic kitty in* and you've only tell the next chapter to find out if I listen at all to the angry screams of reviewers and make the two of them get together ^^

Etcetera-cat - *grins* yeah, Amaro does need the class.  Your and Teva's feelings on the King's Own are not misplaced, but I wont let a single thing else slip out about him ^^ he's not very popular, I think *looks at other reviewers* not very popular at all . . .


	10. As are little sisters and Lord Morbus's

Authors note: WARNING!  This is, most possibly, the worst chapter I've ever written.  I'd rant a bit more, but I'd never ever stop . . . *sighs and waves on* go, go and think about how you're going to phrase your flames . . .

The fire crackled in the lengthy silence that followed.  The old man was watching Neo carefully, wizened gray eyes warming slightly at the horror in his expression.  His people's plight was moving someone with the ability to do something about it.  A strong surge of triumph welled up, making the long creases around his eyes curve upwards as a blissful smile beamed out of his white beard.

Neo sat completely still, the appalling news seeping into his mind like acid.

_Valdemar . . . could end up . . . like Hardorn . . ._

The sickening image of a deserted Haven filled his head, quickly followed by an abandoned Collegium . . . no, not abandoned.  The Heralds and Companions would never leave their home without some kind of fight.  Immediately, the barren Companion's Field he had been picturing was strewn with bloody white bodies, twisted with pain, dazzling sapphire eyes dulled and darkened by agonizing death.  

Bile rose up within him.  He clutched his mouth and forced himself to quiet his harsh breathing.

"Boy?  You alright?  Didn't mean to make yah sick . . . 'tis only truth I speak, nothin' worse," the old man patted Neo's back concernedly.  Neo shook his head briefly.  Nothing could be worse than the truth in this matter.

"Please . . . go on," it was the last thing Neo wanted the old man to do.  He didn't want to have any more images of dead Companions, didn't want to think about anything other than saving his sister . . . but he asked anyway.  For some gods-awful reason, he had to know what lead up to his sister being kidnapped.  He _had _to know.

The old man sighed, settled back into his seat, closed his eyes, then continued his story.

"Well, them folk that didn't have nothin' to do with land and it's caretaking, Nobles and the like, they walked right up to the Prince . . . and said what everyone else was too scared to say.  Said it was _his fault.  Said nothin' like this had happened with his forbearers.  Said he'd used his powers wrongly, makin' the land sick and the people dead."_

Neo, his stomach out of his throat, swallowed dryly and looked at the old man.

"Is that even possible?  I've never heard of anything with the scope of power you're talking about . . ." even Adept Mages couldn't wipe out an entire country . . . could they?  He should have paid more attention in History . . .

"Oh, 'tis possible alright.  But the Prince didn't wail and moan like most Nobles do when someone tells him straight what he thinks o' what he's doin'.  The Prince just stared at 'em . . . and when the Nobles finished, he admitted right out in front o' everyone.  'Figured me out, you did,' he said, 'good for you,' and then every Noble there just up and dropped like the farmers."

Neo shuddered involuntarily.  As much as he loathed his father and the people like him, the kind of death the Sickness brought about was not something he would wish on anything.  Noble or otherwise.

"And then . . ." the old man continued, "well, the Prince told everyone that was left why he did it," he took in a shaky breath, "said he wasn't no longer man.  Said he'd been freed.  Said he saw'n'felt everythin' in Hardorn, and that he knew how the folk had been treatin' it.  Said he wouldn't allow it any longer."

Neo's gaze slid from the aged man to the small fire.  Such simple reasoning.  Neo could even see the sense in it.  What he couldn't see the sense of was why Lord Morbus carried out his "justice" in such a horrible way.  Surely with the power of the throne and the knowledge of the land . . .  surely with those things it was easy to stop whatever one didn't want continuing.

"And so it is now . . . Apple and I haven't been to the Throne City since all o' this began.  I only know what's already happened, what everyone else knows, and what a few Gift dreams say might come about."

Neo nodded very slowly.

"Thank you . . . for telling me," it sounded incredibly lame to Neo's ears, but he said it anyway.  The old man smiled at him.

"Not at all, Herald," he said.  Neo suddenly didn't want to be called something he wasn't by the wise old man.

"Call me Neoka," he extended his hand and grinned.

"And call me Rellik," they shook hands, sharing the grin.  

***           

Neo had gotten approximately a candlemark of sleep, the rest of the night he had spent leaning against the headboard of the bed given to him, watching the sun rise with a still air about him.

He had spent a lot of mornings at the Collegium in the exact same way.  Somehow, he expected this sunrise to be different.  After all, he was in a whole other kingdom, was he not?  But the sun rose exactly as it had in Haven, with small, hesitant white rays of light creeping stealthily across Hardorn, gently warming his face.  As the morning waned on, the rays became stronger, dissipating the thin ashen blue mist like spears of clear light.

Finally, when the sun edged up over the horizon, Neo slid out of bed noiselessly.  He had slept in his stolen Whites, only removing his boots and belt for a little more comfort.

He tried to smooth the wrinkles out after slipping his feet into his chilled boots, but quickly gave it up as a lost cause.  What was the point of looking presentable, anyway?  Who was he going to impress?

Running a single had through his raven hair out of pure habit, he rebound it in the customary leather thong, then left the room.

Apple was waiting at the small table, a steaming cup of dark liquid in her hands.  She beamed at him, wished him a good morning in the cheeriest of voices, and offered him a cup of what she had.

"What is it?" he asked dubiously, looking at the brown mess she sipped happily.

"D'know!" she shrugged, not loosing her smile, "granda makes it out o' herbs in his garden.  I think it tastes best when it's warm, but he says it looses all its good stuff when put over the fire."

Neo inspected the drink a little longer, before mentally pronouncing it as an herbal remedy or some such used by superstitious farming folk.

What he _really_ wanted was a nice, warm cup of _chava, but there wasn't any chance of getting that in Hardorn, especially from people who probably wouldn't have any idea what he was talking about if he asked for it._

"No, thank you Apple," he patted her shoulder, "I'd better see to Amaro before I feed myself."

He didn't really think the Companion would still be in the stables, and wasn't really planning on visiting him even if he was . . . but Apple slid off her chair and followed him with bouncing, energetic steps.

"Oh, can I come?!  Please, Herald?!  I'd love to see your pretty white horse again, please!" Neo blinked, then sighed helplessly.

"Sure," he said, opening the door and letting her precede him.  She bounded down the small path to the decrepit old stall, well-worn night dress patched and frayed, vivid red hair curled and tangled from sleep, but both as full of life as the rest of her.

Neo followed more slowly.

_Amaro's probably still mad at me for yelling at him . . ._ he sighed, _I wouldn't be surprised if he already left for Haven . . ._

But when he entered the stall, Amaro was there, his nose in the tight embrace of Apple.

"Ah . . . good morning," Neo greeted the Companion awkwardly, shuffling a little closer.

_:Yes__,: Amaro agreed, with no hint of anger in his tone.  There was also no trace of the cold tenor that he had argued with last night, __:we__ should leave soon.  There really isn't any reason to linger.:_

Neo sighed, relieved.  So he wouldn't have to walk to the Throne City . . . _thank the gods._

"Herald!  Herald, you'll stay for supper, wont you?  Granda's garden-"

"I'm sorry, Apple," Neo cut her off gently before she could get any more excited and persuade him to stay, "but Amaro and I had better be going, if we're to get to the Throne City soon."

Apple's pouty lips slid into a frown, her rich brown eyes brimming with disappointment.

"We'll stop by here on our way back, alright?" Neo said, as way of apology.  Apple didn't loose her unhappy air, but she nodded.

Neo smiled at her, ruffled her hair, and then gathered up Amaro's tack.

_:It's__ about a day's travel from here to the __Throne__City__,: he said privately to Amaro, thinking about the long, boring map-classes he had endured,_ :if we keep the pace brisk, there's no reason we shouldn't get there before nightfall.:__

Amaro nodded his agreement, standing absolutely still as Neo slid on his saddle and hackamore.

By the time Neo had finished with everything and mounted Amaro outside the stall, Apple had brought her grandfather out to watch them leave.

"Good luck, lad," Rellik said, patting Neo's leg.  Apple ran forward, holding up a small package.

"Lunch!" she said cheerfully.  Neo smiled and expressed his thanks, binding the parcel to the saddle.  Apple gave Amaro's nose one last hug, before the Companion twisted in a flurry of silver mane and tail, stretching out his legs in an eagerness and excitement Neo hadn't before seen in him.

_:You__ said a brisk pace,: the Companion said, when Neo questioned him, _:I can cut the time in half with just a canter . . .:__

_:Alright . . . but don't strain yourself . . . if what Rellik said about Lord Morbus is true, we might have a fight on our hands,: _Neo said silently, knowing that if he spoke aloud he'd get a mouthful of mane.

Amaro was silent for a moment, making Neo tense in the saddle.  

_:Tell__ me what you know of this 'Lord Morbus,': Amaro said finally.  Neo slowly relaxed, then recounted what Rellik had told him._

_: . . . so Lord Morbus is the cause of all this.  _And _he's the one who's holding my sister prisoner.  I still don't know what he wants her for, but I don't think I'm going to question him when I see him . . .: oh no, he had far more satisfying thoughts in mind for the kidnapper of his sister._

***

Menith dismounted Hyatee and approached the shimmering barrier between Valdemar and Hardorn.  He reached out to touch it, but pulled his hand back with a slight hiss before his finger could get less than an inch close.

"What is it?" Herald Veera asked impatiently, leaning over her dainty Companion's neck to glare at Menith.

"It's a barrier . . . like the one Iftel had a long while ago . . . except this one is most definitely not made by a god," Menith replied, drawing his now numb up to inspect it, "and the punishment for forcing an entry is not so forgiving as Iftel's had been . . ."

"What do you mean?" Herald Tru asked, dismounting to come up beside him.  Menith turned an appraising eye to the older Herald.

"Iftel's border did not kill intruders.  It sent them back where they had come from, or simply didn't allow them access.  _This _border has the capacity to do both, but instead it. . ." he trailed off, looking at his hand closely and frowning thoughtfully.

"Instead it _what?" Veera demanded impatiently.  Menith sent her a withering look._

"You are familiar with the Mind Sickness infecting the Holderkin?" he asked.  She snorted contemptuously.

"Do I look like a fool?"

"I will not answer that," he turned back to the shimmering 'wall' surrounding Hardorn, "but the disease seems to be in this border . . ."

"_In _it?" the usually silent Herald Rhys exclaimed.  Menith nodded.

"Do not get me wrong.  The sickness did not originate from it, as far as I can tell, but it _is a source.  If I were to try and enter Hardorn, I would be infected with the disease."_

Hyatee let out a low sound, almost like a growl.

"But the tracks . . ." Tru pointed to the hoof prints they had followed.  They began abruptly in the middle of the trail, skidded to a stop where a distinct outline of a collapsed Companion and a small boy lay, then picked up again, going straight into Hardorn, "how did Neoka and Amaro get past the border then?"

Menith crossed his arms, looking at the hoof prints trail off into Hardorn without faltering.

"Again, you underestimate Neoka.  I do not know how he kept himself and Amaro from contracting the sickness, but he obviously did," he sighed, shaking his head, "and we cannot follow him.  We'll have to camp out here . . . and wait."

***

Neo and Amaro entered Hardorn's Throne City in late afternoon, the sound of Companion hooves the only noise either could hear.

It had become a rather drizzly day, the front of a storm rumbling low in the distance, threatening the Blue and Companion with darkening skies and flashes of far off lightning.

Neo looked around the deserted city, eyes wide in disbelief.  If there had been a crowd of people instead of huge black birds, the city could have passed as Haven.

The streets wined around buildings and fountains that Neo could have sworn he saw in his home city, but the empty houses and roads made him shiver as Haven never had before.

"Let's get this over with," he whispered to Amaro, hunching his shoulders against the bleak city's glare.

_:Can__ you sense your sister?: Amaro asked, picking his way around upturned carts and mounds of oddly shaped bundles of cloth.  Neo looked closely at one of the bunches of rags as they passed it, and nearly lost control of his stomach when he saw the crippled form of a young girl in it.  Hoping his mind was playing tricks on him, Neo looked again, but the girl was still there, her filthy clothes and body obscuring her enough to make her seem like a pile of grime.  Only the vague outline of her corpse and a single outstretched hand betrayed what she really was._

Hastily, Neo turned his gaze inward, seeking out the mind of his sister.

The city was a lifeless, shadowy plane before him, his own thoughts the only ones he could sense.

_Vannasa, _he whispered longingly, scouring the black desert with every ounce of strength he had.

It was a long time before he felt anything other than his own desperate probing.

_Neoka?_

Neo felt his heart throb painfully and he almost lost his hold on the weak call.

_Vannasa?!__ He grasped and held the other mind as swiftly as he could._

_Oh . . . Neo, what . . ._

_I'm here, 'Nasa!  I'm in the __Throne__City__!  Where are you? His breathing became harsh with excitement._

_The . . . castle . . . Neo, wait . . ._

Neo pulled back before she could finish her thought, ebony eyes popping open to stare directly at the black towers that held his sister.

"She's there, Amaro!" he pointed and grabbed hold of the Companion's reigns, urging Amaro with a single-minded Projection of need.

Amaro bolted down the cobblestone street, neck stretched in line with his back.  Neo bent low over him, eyes never leaving the shadowy castle.

***

They reached the courtyard in no more than a few minutes, Amaro skidded to a stop and Neoka slipped off his back to run a few steps toward the huge metal doors.

The Companion took a halting stride after him, then stopped, sapphire eyes darkening as uneasiness welled up inside him.

_:Neoka__, wait,: he sent after the boy.  The Blue sent an annoyed glance over his shoulder, _:There's___ . . . there's something not quite right here, Neoka . . .:_

"Who cares?" the Blue bit out, reaching the black metal doors with a small grin, "she's here, and that's all that matters."

_:But__-:_

Amaro's protests were cut off as the metal doors swung heavily open, knocking Neoka off his feet.  Amaro let out a snort of surprise.

Silhouetted in the doorway was a tall, black-haired man, eyes glowing an unholy red, smile crooked and iniquitous.  Beside him stood a blank-eyed young girl, face pale and drawn, clothes torn and old, hanging heavily on her slight frame.

Neoka gasped sharply, taking a short step towards the pair.

"V . . . Vannasa . . .?" he breathed, reaching out one trembling hand.

The grinning man laughed harshly.

"You must be Neoka," he said in a low, gravely voice.  Neoka swung his gaze to the man, eyes narrowing.

"And you . . . you must be Lord Morbus," his lip drew up in disgust, and Amaro echoed the sentiment with a small, angry snort.

But Lord Morbus didn't even spare him a glance.  The former prince kept his red-eyed gaze on Neoka.

"I'm flattered you know of me," he grinned, "and dare I ask if you know of this little pretty beside me?" he put a hand on Vannasa's shoulder, making Neoka's face contorted with anger.

"_Don't touch her_!" Amaro felt power well up inside the Blue, directed only at the tall, grinning man in front of him.

_The man doesn't stand a chance! _Amaro thought, the whites of his eyes showing as Neoka released the pent up power, it rushed with an audible roar over all of them, intent on only the throbbing red glare of Lord Morbus.

But it met and crashed with a twin rush of power.

_What . . .? _Amaro stared as Neoka stumbled back, eyes going wide, shocked gaze glued on . . . _Vannasa?_

_:Neoka__, what . . . who . . .?:_

_:Vannasa__ . . . blocked me . . .: Neoka whispered back._

***

Neo put everything he had in the wave of power, pushing it with all his anger towards the grinning Prince.

But it smashed against a barrier before it could touch Lord Morbus.

And the identical surge of power had the distinct taste of Vannasa.

Amaro's questioning brought him out of his stupor.  Gingerly, he reached out to his vacant-eyed sister.

_'Nasa . . . what are you doing?_

_I'm so sorry Neo, _she sobbed, though her face stayed absolutely emotionless, _he . . . he makes me do these things . . ._

A brief glimpse of her mind told Neo everything she couldn't.

A deep, throbbing red vein ran between his sister and the Hardornian Prince, almost completely dominating Vannasa's mind.  

It was like a revolting, twisted replica of the bond he had seen between Menith and his Companion.

Vannasa had absolutely no control over what she did.

And if the smaller, purer bond between Companion and Herald were to break, as Menith had said, it was going to leave damage, if not kill the remaining being . . . then what would happen if Neo were to kill Lord Morbus?

Vannasa followed his thoughts with the conviction of one already accepting her fate.

_There is no way he'd let go of life without taking me with him, _she said in a small voice, _and I cannot kill him . . . so Neo, you-_

**_NO_**_! _the refute echoed in the heads of all beings there, _no, Vannasa.  There has_ to be another way.__

_There _isn't _Neo.  If there was, I would have found it a long time ago.  I awakened your Gifts to do this . . . but I see now our powers are equal . . ._

Neo let a small whimper escape him.  Vannasa had called for him to come . . . only to have him _kill_ her?

_It's the only way, Neo, _Vannasa said softly.

Neo shook his head, _I can't . . . I _can't_,_ _Vannasa! _

_No . . . you can't, right _now_.  But you must.  You _must_.  You have to find something to make your power stronger than mine._

Neo shook his head again.  He just . . . couldn't believe it.

_:Neoka__!: Amaro called to him sharply, making the dazed Blue glance at him, _:_what __is going on?!:_

_:Vannasa__ . . . called me here to . . . kill her . . . only I'm not strong enough . . . not strong enough . . .: in every way imaginable, he wasn't strong enough.  Even if he _had _the extra power, he _couldn't _do that to her._

_:Explain__,: Amaro insisted after a short silence.  So Neo did._

_:There's__ . . . something between Lord Morbus and her.  It's like a bond . . . so if I kill him . . . she dies as well.  Only, he controls every move she makes, and her power matches mine exactly . . . I could not defeat her, even if I tried . . .:_

***

Amaro's hide shivered as Neoka enlightened him on what was happening.  Neoka, with the strongest Mind Gift Amaro had ever heard of, was matched equally with a girl half his size.

And loosing the fight was certain death; the laughing red gaze of Lord Morbus told Amaro that clearly.

_:She__ says I need a boost,: the disbelieving voice of Neoka made Amaro shiver harder._

There was something he was supposed to do . . . but . . . what could a useless, unpartnered Companion do?

An icy cold thought slipped through his mind as his memories stirred.

_It was nearing a year since Amaro's birth, and the young colt was curious as all hells about _every_thing.  The day of his birthday had his mind centering on Choosing._

_:Mama__!: his slightly squeaky voice echoed his awkward strides as he trotted along beside his dam, :Choosing!:_

_He didn't really need to say anything more.  His mother turned amused sapphire eyes to him._

_:Companions__ Choose usually around the age of ten, dear-heart.  They Seek out their destined Heralds, and Choose them when they Find them.  Choosing a person binds them forever to you, and it gives their Gifts an extra boost of power . . .:_

Amaro stood absolutely still, staring at Neoka.

_To defeat Lord Morbus . . . to win this fight . . . I must . . ._

His muscles clenched, his entire body went taut with . . . what?  Apprehension?  He couldn't focus his thoughts on what he was feeling, he had . . . more important things to do.

_:Neoka__!: again he shouted for the boy's attention.  The Blue turned confused, forlorn eyes to him, _:to___ save Valdemar . . . to defeat this mad man . . . I Choose you.:_

Authors note: *sighs miserably* I fell outa the habit of writing, and now I think I stink at it.  If the chapter desperately needs an appointment with a dumpster, do not hesitate to tell me so . . . cause I'd agree with you T_T.

And now for review responses:

Liasada – I'm glad you like it.  I tried a version where Amaro got completely pissed at Neo, but it didn't come out very well.  I tried to put other things on Amaro's mind, to draw his thoughts away from Neo's folly, but, like you said, it was out of character ^^

Psycho tabby cat - ^^ I'm glad you're fine with the responses.  I get space-complaints mostly, but Mercedes Lackey fans are very courteous most of the time ^^.  Thank you!

Silverblade219(Cat) – Yeah, the infamous unveiling ^^.  Hope you aren't confused!

Kierseth - ^^ yep, hope him Choosing Neo wasn't _too _much of a surprise.  Vannasa/Amaro?  Well, I hope you see the problem with all that now . . . if not, I don't blame you . . . *kicks chapter*

Evandi and Hyreli - *happy* thanx for the compliments, 'Vandi dear!  Well, there ya go!  Choosing scene . . . *sighs* really crappy one at that.

OLA – *winces* sorry for the wait.  But thanx for the review ^^

Cat – Thank you!

Lady Silver Dragon - *bug eyes* _both of them?!  That's . . . odd.  ^^ well, the suspense is gone and over with . . . still gona read? _

Dream Keeper - *scratches head* I can't remember whether or not I expanded on my review . . . ah, but thanx for _yours.  If you find any grammar thingies in this chap (I really wouldn't be surprised T_T) don't hesitate to point 'em out!  And thank you!  _

ElvenRanger – Ah yes, I've yet to explain how Amaro got where he was.  Well, it wasn't divine aid, and he isn't that fast, but those are both good guesses.  ^^ it'll be made clear soon, as the story is winding down. 

Arach - ^^ yes, Amaro was a bit of a prick, eh?  And thanx, Meri dear ^^

Fireblade - *helps up* on with the happy dancing . . . or perhaps not.  Ah well, unsatisfied and angry reader dancing is interesting as well ^^

Emerald Flame - ^^ thank you!  I can't remember if I reviewed your fic or not T_T (happens all lot) so if I didn't, yell at me and I'll get my butt movin'.

etcetera-cat – Yay!  Amaro/Neo flag wavers win!  *hands out pins . . . which get chucked back at her immediately* this was supposed to be the climax, but I royally screwed it up . . . T_T

Herald Mistylenna - ^^ thank you!  Ah . . . took a rather long break, yes?  *hides head* sorry!


	11. Epilog: A Fox's Final Words

Neo had only a breath of time to glimpse the everlasting sapphire in Amaro's eyes before the power inside him burst out of any restraint that had ever bared it.

It screamed with freedom, becoming a torrent that Neo could only feel, watch . . . he couldn't even point to which direction the tempest should go.

And it was _still _growing.  

He couldn't form a single thought.  The power was eating him alive.

_:Hold__ on, Neoka!: Amaro's voice rang purely over the deafening rush, _:think of Vannasa!  Think only of her!:__

Neo didn't understand why Amaro wanted him to do it, but he did it anyway.

Flashes of images, sparks of feelings, everything that connected him to Vannasa, he grasped with a strength that rivaled the storm inside him.

And as soon as he did, the power whirled down the small, taught bond between him and his sister.  It burnt him with its speed, but he held on still.

And right beside him, oddly, was Amaro, grasping the same thread.

Somehow, that heartened him.

And then, somewhere outside himself, he heard a scream.  No, he heard _screams.  Wherever the power was going, it was causing that pain._

_:Not__ pain, Neoka,: Amaro whispered sympathetically, but honestly, _:death.:__

An image inserted itself between the memories of his sister.

An innocent Hardornian farmer, struck down by Neo's carelessness.  Yet again, death was being dealt by Neo's own hand.

Franticly, desperately, Neo dropped the channel.  But the damage was done.  Whoever had been on the other side of the bond was gone.  The power storm had left nothing.

And yet, there was still power left in him.

Not as much as there had been before.  The raging tempest had calmed somewhat, due to an outlet for it's fury.

Neo could think clearly again.

It was more of a curse than anything he could ever have imagined.

_Vannasa . . ._

There was no answer.  The small glow that had been his sister moments before had disintegrated.  There was nothing left.

Neo opened his eyes, not aware of when he had closed them.  He immediately searched for his sister.

But there was nothing in front of him.  No Mage.  No Vannasa.

"What . . ." his voice was barely a breath, but somehow Amaro heard it.

The Companion had come up beside him, looking at the empty space before them in silence.

_:They're__ gone,: Amaro said softly, after a moment, _:we've defeated them.  It was the only way . . .:__

"De . . . defeated?" Neo couldn't understand.  And then, quite suddenly, he did, "Van . . . nasa?  _Vannasa_?!"

_:It__ was the only way, Neoka,: Amaro said, as calmly as he had before, _:the only way to save Hardorn and Valdemar.:__

"Who _cares _about Valdemar?!" Neo screeched, stumbling a few steps forward, "Vannasa . . ."

_:You__ do not mean that,: Amaro said firmly, __:you are distraught, I understand, but - :_

"Be quiet," Neo's voice was unexpectedly weak, exhausted, "just . . . just go away, Amaro . . . just leave me alone for a minute . . ."

Amaro stayed where he was for a moment, before turning around and walking a short distance away.

Neo collapsed to his knees in the spot where Vannasa should have been, silent in his disbelieving grief, tears rolling down his cheeks unchecked, shoulders just beginning their soon-to-be bone-shattering trembling.

_Vannasa . . ._

***

Amaro gave the boy the space he asked for.  Neoka needed it.  They _both_ needed to be alone for the moment.

He sighed deeply as the quiet sobs reached his ears, muted as they were; he felt them in his heart.

_Chosen . . ._

So, it was true.  He had Chosen Neoka.

Qualms darted across his mind like the crows against the hoary sky above him.  Had he done the right thing?  Would Neoka make a good Herald?

The bond that had been forged between them was deep and strong; Neoka's power had somehow seen to that.  So if Amaro were to Repudiate the boy now, one or both of them would die.  That was a certainty.

_To save Valdemar . . . _that was his reason for Choosing.  That was why Neoka was a Herald.  It wasn't a spur of the moment decision.  If Amaro had been able to turn back time, he wouldn't have changed a thing.

Neoka would get over his loss.  Herald Menith would teach the boy to Shield.  Valdemar would have a priceless Gift in their hands.

No, he wouldn't have changed a thing.

He looked over his shoulder at the slumped form of his Herald.

_You will see that someday, Neoka . . . until then, you will need this bond to keep you alive . . . _

Until then, they would be together.

Amaro released a near-silent snort of ill-humor.

_From Blue to White . . ., _he glanced sorrowfully over his shoulder at the sobbing boy he had Chosen, _and the transition is to be drowned in red . . ._

_To be Continued . . ._

*boo hiss hiss boo* end it now I say! *hiss boo hiss*

Authors note: *blinks* that's it?  That's the end?  I'm done?

*is tackled from behind by hoard of SH kits* ah yes, I did say something about a sequel, didn't I?  Don't worry, the angsty little side kick to this fic is in the works.  I'm just about past the stage of character and plot development.  *sniffs* and really, it all goes downhill from here, folks.  Good news, though . . . there's loads of Tayledras and all that yummy Pelagir stuff rolled up in it, so look for it soon on a computer hear you! ^^

*cough cough* and yes, I am aware that questions went unanswered in this fic.  Trust me, please.  The sequel will take care of them . . . or at least . . . I _think _it will.  Also, I'll re-write that _horrible blemish of a previous chapter before I post the new story._

Anywho, before I get to the personal thank you's, I'd like to express my gratitude to everyone who had a part in this fic, whether it be the wonderful reviewers, who took time out of their busy schedule to drop me a line and tell me what they thought of my writing, or the equally wonderful on-line friends who were always standing behind the curtains with a bat and threatening lots of pain if I didn't write ^^

You know who you are, so give yourself a pat on the back and know that I wish you the most interesting of lives ^^ 

Ola: yeah, I wanted that vibe in the story, but, as I said before, I completely bit the dust while trying.  Sorry if you were confused, but yes, Amaro was supposed to feel forced into the bond.  It'll be a major plot-chew-toy for me to work on in the sequel ^^

Kierseth: *wails* I know!  I know, I know!  And I completely hate myself for not writing it correctly for you, Sethi.

Etcetera-cat: Now now, Cat.  You said you'd be honest, and then you completely skirt the issue.  This is the review that would be honest: "Well, that frankly sucked.  Please take it down and burn it.  My eyes are bleeding."  ^^ but I must say I liked your kindness much better.

Fireblade K'Chona: ^^ awfully cheerful, you are.

Faeborn2930: well, this didn't take too long.  But the Choosing must have a bit more angst to it before I'm content, I'm afraid ^^.  You didn't think I'd let Amaro be happy any time soon did you?  *evil laugh* dear me, this fox is not a saint!  No, no . . . much more angst for Amaro and Neo to come.  Sit back and enjoy ^^

Swiftshadows: Soon soon, here it is, soon as I could make it . . . well, perhaps not.  I teetered between wanting to add a little Menith at the end, but it would have just ran on and on after that.  Short and to the point, I would call it *grimaces at chapter*

Silver Dragonfly: *grins* about time, yes.  Now, wave goodbye to B2W!  *happily shoves fic off cliff and dusts hands*

Herald Mistyleena: it was a true Choice, yes.  It was supposed to be all dramatic like, with Amaro feeling like he was saving Valdemar and that was the only reason why he was Choosing.  But when I started typing, it's like my fingers just went to the bathroom on the keyboard . . . *sigh*

Evandi and Hyreli: *ducks and runs away screaming* no more whacks!  I've got sensitive ears!  *stops and returns hugs* but thank you for being so kind.  This fic never would have been what it is without you, 'Vandi . . . *grimaces* gah . . . sappy fox-mood.

Delphine Pryde: you were, were you?  Well, I hope it wasn't a disappointment ^^

Silvervine: *blinks* flattery.  For _that chapter?  *blushes* go explore my friends' fics, then come back and see if you still think the same ^^_

Dragonsdaughter1: Ah, the first scene with Amaro did have a bit of Choosing in it, didn't it?  Well, whether or not Neo and Amaro were destined is beyond me.  ^^ guess I'll have to answer that in the second fic.

Darkfyre: you wanted Vannasa to live, then?  *blinks and considers* well, where would all my angst go?

Mavan: I hope you didn't wait too long.  And I hope this ending is all right with you ^^

Desertangel21: *winces* yeah, the battle-scene was what really picked at me.  I promise I'll rewrite it, though.

Blood Aura: ^^ riveted, were you?  Well, you didn't have quiet so long to wait this time around.

Crydwyn: *grins* but tenterhooks can be fun to hang on!  *glances up at last chapter* this one isn't as long as any of the others.  Hope that's alright.

Emerald Flame: ^^ you're welcome.  I couldn't very well disappoint my Liz-kit, could I?

Lady Silver Dragon I: hum *savors* yes!  Honesty!  I hope this chapter isn't as bad as the previous one.  *grimaces* really, I think that's impossible . . .

A Watcher: nope, my evil-maniacal side would have nothing less than Vannasa blood on my hands.  Sorry!  ^^

Watcher Tale Neith: T_T oh well.  But though the theory is a sound, good one, it doesn't apply to this fic.  I'll clear it up in the sequel, though you're under no obligation to read that.

Miste: ^^ thank you!  And *quells under glare* here!  An update!

EvilGenius92389: *blushes and smiles* though I really loved to read that, you must read my friends' fics.  You'll rightly change your mind then ^^

Jinxlett: *nervous smile* rather . . . mad, are you?  Well, thank you for the review.

Aggy_Head: *laughs* yeah, one of the things that came to my mind as well.  ^^ well, I hope you've enjoyed the fic!

*takes a deep breath and smothers snivels* and now!  Adieu my fellow Lackey-fans!  Until we meet again in the sequel, or the odd little one-shots I might tinker with in-between!  Thank you for reading!     


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